


Matrimony With His Majesty

by Meri



Series: Montovia [1]
Category: J2 - Fandom
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-15
Updated: 2010-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:57:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meri/pseuds/Meri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Texas cop saves the life of the king of Montovia and is rewarded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matrimony With His Majesty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2007 SPN J2 Harlequin Challenge  
> Very sincere thanks to my wonderful betas: [ regan_v](http://regan-v.livejournal.com), [elanurel ](http://elanurel.livejournal.com), and [ molly_o ](http://molly_o.livejournal.com) any mistakes after their hard work are all my own.  
> Disclaimer: This didn't happen. These characters don't exist except in my head.

Jensen stood with his back to the wall and scanned the crowd again. A trickle of sweat ran down his spine, making him twitch. Another speech in another overcrowded room.

"Tell me again why we're doing this?" Chris Kane's tinny voice whined in his ear mike.

Jensen caught Chris' eye across the room and smiled. "Dude, we volunteered," he said into his lapel pin mike.

"Naw. You volunteered us. Wanted to show off your fancy shooting skills."

"With a bit of luck, we won't need them. Besides, you're just jealous that you came in second to me two years in a row." And that was probably why the two of them ended up on the Texas security detail for the King of Montovia's visit.

"Fuck off." Across the room Chris grimaced as the king started to speak from the podium. "What is it about Europeans and Texas?"

"Be fair. He was actually from here." Jensen smirked. "One of our own making good."

Chris snorted. "Fucking king of the world is from Texas. Don't that just beat all?"

"Not the world. Just Montovia. Wherever the fuck that is." Not that it mattered, but someone had said it was near Italy.

Before Chris could whine again, movement near the fire door caught Jensen's eye. Three guys. They hadn't been there a second ago.

"Chris," he whispered tersely. "Three guys by the fire exit."

"Got 'em. Ops 3 is heading that way, too."

The three guys started to move towards the podium and the king. How the fuck had they gotten past security? Jensen moved with them, tracking them as they pushed through the crowd. "This isn't going to be good," he muttered as he pushed past the people standing around. Fuck, they were going to have an international incident if something happened to the king.

He was almost on them when they drew their guns, taking aim at the oblivious king. Jensen dove for them, pulling out his own gun, but he already knew there were too many people around to fire without considerable collateral damage.

Someone finally noticed what was going on and started to scream. Panic raced through the crowd. They were all starting to move in different directions, pushing and shoving. Security had started to rush the king off the podium. Unfortunately, they'd never get him away in time.

As people moved away from the stage, Jensen got a clear shot and took out the first one and then the second, but the third one had his gun trained on Jensen -- which was better than on the king, he supposed. There wasn't much he could do about it, anyway. The guy snarled and fired. The shots slammed into his vest, knocking him backward. He was pretty sure he got off at least one more shot at the guy before his head bounced on the stone floor and the world went black.

* * *

Jensen woke to the smell of alcohol. Why was he in the hospital? None of the guns the perps had been using were powerful enough to go through the hardware of his vest. He moved a little; his chest and head both ached, but he didn't feel like he'd been shot.

"Dad?" His son's voice was shaky. "You okay?"

"Let your daddy sleep." Chris' voice wasn't much steadier than Bobby's. Why was he scared?

He forced his eyes open. "What happened?"

"You and your fuckin' hero complex," Chris said, his tone half-amused and half-relived. "What did you think you were doing?"

Jensen blinked. "My job maybe? Wasn't I supposed to save the king? I did, didn't I?"

"Yeah, dad. You're a hero. You pegged those guys as the perps way before anyone else did." Bobby smiled proudly at him.

His son's admiration was like a sunny day, warming his heart from the inside out. He smiled back. "How did they get in?" He directed the question to Chris.

"One of the waiters, Jane Hall, let them in without ID."

"They pay her off?"

"Nope. She'd been dating one of the perps. He convinced her to let him get a look at the king. Completely suckered her. Now she'll be paying for that for the rest of her life." Chris' expression was not sympathetic.

"Fuck. What an idiot." Though, really, Jensen was a fine one to point fingers about being stupid for love.

"Z'ackly." Chris snorted. "You're probably gonna get a medal. Or something."

Which was all well and good, but... "Why am I here?"

"You got knocked out, and the bad guys shot you a couple of times." Bobby sounded positively gleeful about it.

"The vest held, but you've got a concussion from smacking your head into the floor," Chris said and shook his head.

That explained the headache. "I only remember the first couple of shots. How many times did they shoot me?"

Chris looked away for just a second. "About half a clip, all in the chest. If it's any consolation, you got all of them."

"Motherfuckers!" Jensen leaned his head back on the pillow, and fuck, that was a mistake.

"Dad!" Bobby laughed. "Not supposed to talk like that in front of me."

"You've heard worse. Where are my folks?" He knew Chris had called them, and he was sure they were here.

"Went to get something to eat. You've been out for a while."

"That normal?"

Chris shrugged. "I'll get the doctor and see what she says."

The doctor said he could go home in the morning, and that they had only kept him as a precaution. His parents came in and worried over him and left with Bobby and Chris.

* * *

Later that night, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Jensen called, stifling a yawn. Visiting hours were long over.

A very tall man came into his room, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt with the tails out. He was younger than Jensen by a couple of years, and there was something about him that was familiar. Jensen would bet anything that those big, sad puppy-dog eyes got him anything he wanted.

For no reason Jensen could understand, his mouth went dry and his pulse picked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Jared Deveraux." He had a faint accent, not quite English, but not quite American either. Slightly European, maybe?

"Um…the King of Montovia?" Jensen choked.

Jared nodded, his mouth quirking up in a small smile.

Jensen's face went red. "Why on Earth would you come here, and dear God, please tell me you weren't stupid enough to come by yourself?"

"One of my plainclothes security officers is outside the door. And I came to say thank you," he said, sounding a bit taken aback by the rebuke. Probably didn't get many people talking to him like that.

"One? Are you freakin' nuts? In case it's escaped your notice, there are people trying to kill you. And this would be an excellent place to do it." Jensen pushed himself up, and the ache in his chest turned to pain. He rubbed a hand over the sore spot and found several. No doubt the bruises were spectacular.

He turned to look at the king, and the man had the audacity to smile at him. "They would need to know I'm here, wouldn't they? You didn't recognize me, and you're part of my security detail."

"I admit you look...different. But I've only seen you at a distance or in pictures. It's dangerous for you to be here." That didn't even cover it. The idea that this guy would risk his life this way, especially with all the trouble Jensen had gone to to save it, was annoying.

"I'm just your average man on the street." The king spread his hands and smiled.

A man's smile shouldn't be that sweet or endearing. And those dimples. Fuck. "Except that you're not the average man on the street, not by a long shot. What is so important that you'd risk yourself to come here?"

"As I said, I just wanted to say thanks for saving my life." He blushed. The freakin' King of Montovia blushed.

And fuck if it weren't the most adorable thing Jensen had ever seen. He took a shaky breath and steeled himself not to respond. "You could have sent a note. But you're welcome. You need to leave right now." Jensen looked pointedly at the door.

"I'd like to see you rewarded. Is there something you'd like?" the king asked, casually, but his eyes were intense.

"Aside from you going back to your hotel where you'll have a chance at being safe?" Because, really, Jensen couldn't think of anything he wanted more than seeing this man safe.

The king nodded. "You deserve a reward."

"You're not seriously going to offer me money or something, because, you know, that would be an insult."

"Of course not. That's not what I meant. I was thinking of a knighthood or something symbolic such as that."

"Sir Jensen Ackles?" He laughed. It would follow him for the rest of his life like a bad joke. Chris would never let him live it down. "It wouldn't be valid here."

"I know. I'd like to do something to honor you." His voice was low and sincere.

"All the olive oil I can eat for the rest of my life?" Jensen laughed a little nervously.

But the king's smile brightened up a notch so that his dimples showed. "You know something of Montovia, then?"

Jensen closed his eyes. No way a guy should be allowed to have those dimples. "Only what I've read. Olive oil is your major export. Between that and tourism, you guys are pretty well off as a country. If you can call anything that small a country."

"We're a kingdom. With a parliament. But olive oil doesn't seem like much of a reward. You were injured saving my life."

Jensen smiled and something happened to the king's expression. It went kind of weird. And he wasn't sure what to make of it. "Really, it's my job. I don't expect anything. Besides I'll be out of here tomorrow."

The hazy look left the king's eyes. "But --"

"No. Seriously, I don't think it would be right to accept anything." At least, not anything the king might actually offer. Jensen could not believe the avenue his thoughts had decided to stroll down. He needed to date more, and he seriously needed to get rid of this guy. Right now.

The king shook his head and folded his arms over his broad chest. "You Americans are so independent."

Jensen chuckled. "Yeah, that would be us. Anyway, aren't you an American, too?"

The king smile dimmed and he shook his head. "I had to give up my citizenship to accept the crown."

"Actually, that doesn't sound like a bad trade to me."

"Sometimes I wonder." It kind of sounded like he wasn't sure, which didn't make a lot of sense, since being king had to be a cool gig even with all the problems that went with it.

"I guess it must be hard to be in the spotlight constantly." Jensen fought and lost a battle with a yawn.

The king stepped back. "I've kept you up. I'm sorry. Thank you again. I do appreciate it."

"No problem. S'what I get paid for." Jensen smiled as he watched the king leave. When the door shut, he muttered, "Man, that was something out of the twilight zone."

* * *

The request came through all the right channels from the State Department down through to Jensen's chief and then to his captain.

He stared down at the formal invitation to come to Montovia at the request of the king. "I can't believe this."

"What?" Chris sat down in the chair next to his desk.

Shaking his head, Jensen just handed him the invitation.

"Fuck. You going to go?"

"The State Department is all over good relations with these guys. So, HQ is giving me two weeks of special leave. Gonna get some kind of award, too." Jensen put his head in his hands.

"Two weeks' vacation in a Mediterranean paradise sounds like a good deal to me. You gonna bring Bobby?"

"Yeah. We could both use a break." Jensen sighed and then smirked. "And you get all of my casework."

"Thanks so much. You get to go rub fucking elbows with the rich and the royal and I get to do your work." Chris' tone was mocking, but his eyes were shining.

"I'll owe you for it."

"Damn straight you will, son. And don't think I won't collect on it, either." Chris tipped his chair back against the wall. "Bring me back a princess or something and we'll call it square."

"If there are any princesses to be had, you can bet they're going to be coming home with me." But the picture in his mind was of a certain king standing awkwardly in denim and flannel. Jensen shook his head to clear it, but the image wouldn't go away.

"I think someone else is more interested in you. And it ain't no princess." Chris chuckled, low and dirty.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jensen looked away. It so wouldn't be good for Chris to see his face right then, not with it turning such a brilliant shade of red and all.

"Man, even you aren't that dense." Chris peered closely at him. "Jesus. Maybe you are. He risked his life to come thank you, which, okay, could just be stupidity. But now he's set all of this up? What does that say to you?"

"That he was an idiot to go to the hospital. And..." He shrugged; none of the rest of it made sense. But he could admit, at least to himself, that seeing the king again wouldn't be a hardship.

"Seriously, Jen, I bet he's got it bad for you."

"Jesus, you don't even know him. Or if he is even like that." Closing his eyes and rocking back in his chair as casually as he could, Jensen willed his heart to slow down. He didn't care whether the king was like that or not. Really, he didn't.

Chris smirked, knowingly. "Rumor has it that he is. And there was that rock star he hung out with for a while a couple of years ago."

"Kings hang out with rock stars. That doesn't mean anything." But maybe it did. Though really, it shouldn't make a damned bit of difference.

"Yeah, and that rock star came out a couple of months ago," Chris said, his eyebrow raised.

"That doesn't prove anything. You don't know that he's --" Jensen waved his hand back and forth; words failing him, but his pulse was still pounding double time.

"And do you know what else? I think it's time for you to admit --"

"Don't say it. Not in the middle of the fucking squad room. Have you forgotten Steve Doyle?" Jensen glanced around. But no one was paying any attention to them and he exhaled slowly.

"That was years ago." Chris' tone was dismissive, as if things had really changed since then.

They hadn't. Doyle had filed suit for harassment and won. Despite the fact the department had gotten a shit-load of bad press and they had all been to extensive EEO training, Jensen was fairly sure none of it took. "Four years. And he finally got a job in San Francisco."

"I'm sure he is much happier there." Chris looked down. "Jesus, man, not admitting it won't make it any less true." While Jensen knew he was well-meaning, Chris simply did not do earnest very well.

"Fuck off," Jensen hissed.

* * *

The tickets were first class. A Mr. Barton, who was the king's personal secretary, met them at the airport with a limo and driver. Jensen wasn't sure what to say to anyone. He'd never been out of the US before, except one time in high school when he and Chris drove down to Mexico on a dare. And it went without saying that he'd never, ever, been treated with this much deference.

"Mr. Ackles, you and your son will be staying at the palace. There is a private dinner with His Majesty tonight. And tomorrow, we'll take you on a tour of the capital. Then, the following day, we'll see the National Art Museum, the National Historical Museum, as well as the major olive oil processing plant. There is a natural history museum and that has a new tyrannosaurus rex skeleton."

"I didn't read that you had any kind of dinosaur skeletons," Bobby interrupted. "That's cool. I'd like to see it."

For one moment, Mr. Barton seemed surprised; then he beamed at Bobby. "You've been reading up on us? That's wonderful. We've only just acquired the skeleton for the museum, and we're very proud of it."

Bobby smiled back at him. "Of course. I knew I was coming here. I wanted to see what there was to do so I wouldn't be bored with Dad hanging out with the king and all."

"You won't have time to be bored, not with everything we have planned to keep you busy," Mr. Barton said. If he was surprised at the idea of 'hanging out with the king', he managed to hide it well.

"Mr. Barton," Jensen said. "Is there any time to just relax? This is our vacation. I think my son and I wouldn't mind a day or two just to go to the beach or something like that."

Bobby nodded enthusiastically.

Unfortunately, Mr. Barton was looking a bit chagrined. "I'll see what we can do about that. Oh, and here we are at the palace."

They stopped, and Jensen stepped out of the car onto a red carpet. It was like something out of a movie. Fuck. Jensen had no idea what he'd been expecting, maybe something like one of the German castles he'd seen in pictures, but the place was modern and sprawling -- gleaming white in the bright morning sunshine. More than the likes of him and his were used to, that was for sure.

"Sweet." Bobby whispered, looking around, his eyes wide and his smile huge. "This is going to be so awesome."

If nothing else, that look made the trip worth it. A woman hurried down the stairs. "Mr. Ackles. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Ms. Allison, His Majesty's personal secretary." She smiled at Mr. Barton. "His other one."

"He's got two secretaries?" Bobby asked with a laugh. "Why's he need two?"

"He's the king. Be good," Jensen whispered back, rubbing a hand over his son's hair.

Bobby stared up at him innocently, and Jensen knew better than to trust that smile. He turned to Ms. Allison. "It's good to meet you, ma'am."

She held out her hand for them to precede her up the red carpet. "Let me show you to your rooms. You must be dead tired after the flight. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, ma'am," Bobby said politely.

"You ate on the plane." Jensen was already dreading the thought of trying to feed him when he turned into a ravenous teenager.

"That was ages ago."

* * *

They were shown to a suite decorated in cream and white. The carpet was probably worth more than their house. The thought of one dropped pop bottle on that carpet made Jensen groan. It would cost him a year's salary for sure.

"Would you look at this place?" Bobby said, sitting on the sofa and picking up the remote to turn on the flat-panel TV that took up a huge part of the wall in front of the sofa.

Before Jensen could answer him, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Jensen called, without looking up.

"Hello again," a familiar voice said.

Jensen jumped to his feet and grabbed the remote out of Bobby's hand. For a moment, he appeared ready to protest, but one look from Jensen kept him silent. He stood up, too.

"Um..." Jensen choked. Damn, shouldn't they have told him how to address the king? As an American, he wouldn't be expected to bow, but that was all he knew. He stood there with his mouth half-open, working hard not to dance from foot to foot.

Jensen swallowed hard and took a couple of steps forward, holding out his hand and trying not to notice how good the king looked in that suit. "It's good to see you again."

As he took Jensen's hand, the king's smile widened until his dimples showed. "And you."

The first touch was like static electricity in the winter; a current ran through Jensen. For just one second, the king's smile faltered.

The king let go of his hand, and Jensen sat down heavily on the sofa, looking up at him, not sure what to say.

"You the king?" Bobby asked breaking the silence. He was still standing and staring up, his arms crossed over his chest. His tone was just this side of insolence.

"Yes. I am." The king smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Jensen held his breath. He could see an international incident coming. What possessed him to encourage Bobby's smart mouth all these years?

"I'm Bobby. Ackles." He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

The king had to bend down to shake Bobby's hand, but he did it solemnly. "Nice to meet you as well, Bobby."

"What's your name?"

Jensen winced. "Bobby, I think --"

The king shook his head. "My name is Jared. Deveraux. And you can call me Jared. But only in private, not in public."

Bobby took that in and thought about it for a second. "Okay. What should I call you outside?"

"Sir. Do you know why?" Jared asked his voice soft.

"You're the king," Bobby said as if that were blatantly obvious to him.

Jensen's stomach was doing a tap dance. "They didn't tell us what we should say, how to address you or --"

"My fault. I asked them not to. I'd rather things were less formal in private." He met Jensen's eyes with an intense look.

That was interesting. Jensen would have bet most people got off on other people being deferential to them. On the other hand, the king had been born an American. "So, what do I call you?"

"Jared." He smiled a bright sunny smile.

Jensen's stomach dropped a little and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Are you hungry?" Jared asked.

"Yes! I haven't eaten in forever." Bobby was smiling up at him.

"Oh, it must have been at least an hour since Ms. Allison fed you," Jensen said, putting a hand on his son's head. Bobby shook him off with a glare.

"Let's get you something to eat then." Jared went to the phone. "Can you send up something for young Mr. Ackles? A snack before dinner? Yes, that sounds fine."

Jensen shrugged and watched Bobby pick up the remote and start to flip through the channels again. "He never stops eating."

"My son is a picky eater. I'm hoping his appetite will increase when he gets older," Jared said with a note of concern in his voice.

"Does he get enough exercise? That usually helps make kids eat." Jensen stopped. Who was he to be giving advice? "Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean --"

Jared chuckled. "I suspect that you're right. He's too fond of his computer and his books. I was rather like him at the same age."

As big and as rangy as Jared was, the idea that he might be bookish didn't quite fit. "How old is your son?"

"He'll be seven in the fall."

"Just starting school?" Jensen guessed.

"We have a different educational system here. He started a few years ago." Jared glanced at his watch. "He should be arriving shortly. I've asked Ms. Allison to bring him up to meet you both."

"That'd be great!" Bobby's tone said he'd actually like to meet the king's son.

Someone brought in a plate of fruit and cheese. Jensen gave Bobby a look when he would have turned his nose up at it. He took a slice of apple and sat down on the floor in front of the TV again.

"I'd much rather have biscuits or candy myself, but this is healthier." From the sound of it, Jared didn't think that made the fresh fruit palatable any more than Bobby did. He didn't have any, either.

"Biscuits?" Bobby turned around and looked at him like he was crazy.

"Cookies," Jared said.

"Why'd you call 'em biscuits if they're cookies?"

"I think that's what they call cookies here," Jensen said, wondering the same thing.

"That's dumb. They should call cookies cookies."

Jensen closed his eyes. "Go play now."

"He's forthright, I'll say that for him." Jared didn't say it as if it were a bad thing.

"Better than saying he's a bad-mannered hellion."

"Is he?"

"Not really. He's a good kid. My wife left us when Bobby was a baby. My mom and dad watch him when I'm at work. But I try and spend as much time with him as I can." Jensen wanted to bite his tongue. The last thing he needed to do was create any kind of closeness or even the illusion of closeness between them. And here he was spilling his guts.

"Sometimes we go on only because we have to, true?" Jared said touching his arm lightly.

The same warm spark hit Jensen and he smiled weakly. "I guess we do. I know it's hard raising a kid on your own." The urge to say more was strong, but Jensen didn't know this man.

"Very hard. I've lost both my wife and my father in the last two years." Jared's eyes had an inward focus.

"I know. I'm very sorry." And he meant it. He wanted to reach out, offer something in the way of comfort, but there was none. And he couldn't.

"Thanks," Jared said, smiling, but it didn't really reach his eyes. "You know, I'm really too young to be king. I mean, it wasn't as if I had a choice about it, but usually you get a chance to grow up."

"You look pretty grown up to me." Jensen's cheeks heated. God, he was lame. What the fuck was it about Jared that invited that closeness?

Before Jared or he could say anything else, there was another knock at the door. Jensen went to answer it. A dark-haired little boy stood with Ms Allison.

"Hi there," Jensen said, squatting down to be on the same level. He was small for not-quite seven, and that was surprising, given his father's height.

"Hello. I'm Prince Jordan," the boy said very seriously, his hazel eyes intense without the humor of his father.

"I'm Jensen." He held out his hand and Jordan shook it.

"You saved my father's life. Thank you."

Somehow a child saying that so formally seemed out of place, strange, but Jensen took it in the manner it was given and smiled. "You're welcome. Do you want to come in?"

"Yes, please."

"My son Bobby is over there, and he could probably use some help with the remote for the video games." Jensen nodded to his son and the TV.

"I can help him. He needs the gaming attachment. It's in the stand under the TV."

Ms. Allison cleared her throat. "Do you need anything else, Your Majesty?

Jared shook his head. "No thank you."

"Very good, sir." She bowed and left.

As soon as the door closed, Jordan ran across the room to his father, who picked him up and swung him around. They settled on the sofa together in front of where Bobby was trying to figure out how to make the video game work.

"How was school?" Jared asked.

Jordan launched into a long discussion on his classes and teachers. Bobby was staring at him wide-eyed. Jensen wasn't far behind.

"Do you want to help Bobby with the game?" Jared asked when Jordan was done talking about his school day.

"Of course." Jordan moved off the sofa and knelt beside Bobby by the TV.

Jared turned to Jensen. "I try and spend time with him every day and just let him be a little boy. There are too many demands on him and his behavior already."

Jensen couldn't imagine doing that to a six-year-old, but it wasn't his place to say anything, so he nodded.

* * *

Dinner was pleasant enough -- a little more formal than Jensen cared for, but that was kind of expected given the circumstances. Even with just the four of them at a family-sized table, there were still uniformed staff waiting against the wall for one of them to need anything. And being in a suit, Bobby felt the need to spill half of dinner on his shirt. Jordan, on the other hand, had scarily perfect table manners.

After dinner, both boys went to play video games in Bobby's room. Jared led Jensen into a large comfortable room with leather furniture, floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and a huge fireplace. Soft music wafted in from some hidden stereo.

"Would you like a brandy?" Jared asked, holding up a bottle.

"Sure." Jensen had never actually had it before. And he'd really rather have a beer. "Do you mind if I take off my jacket and tie?"

"Good idea. No one ever suggests it, like it's bad form or something, but I'm a lot more comfortable without the tie." He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over a chair, then pulled off his tie and rolled up the sleeves on his shirt.

For a second, looking at Jared's muscular arms, Jensen couldn't breathe. He shook himself. They were just arms. "I'm into being comfortable."

Jared sat down on the sofa with a sigh. "I wish more people here were. Even the most casual dinners require dress trousers and a smart jumper."

Jumper? Wasn't that a girl's dress? Jensen was afraid to ask. He took a tentative sip of his brandy. The stuff rolled pleasantly over his tongue, rich tasting and potent, surprisingly good.

After swishing the brandy around, Jared took a sip from his glass and laughed. "I forget the differences in our languages. I meant a sweater."

"For an American, you speak weird-ass English." He smiled as he said it. Hopefully, Jared wouldn't take it wrong.

And Jared seemed to get it. He leaned back against the sofa, relaxing. "It's more European English. I went to school locally after I got here. They thought it would help me learn the culture."

"Did it?" For some reason that Jensen wasn't ready to identify, he wanted to know all the little details about Jared's life. It made no sense since he'd just met the man.

"Very much so. I love the people. I'm not sure I would have such a connection here, if I hadn't been so immersed in the culture." The love and admiration for his people was easy to hear.

And it made Jensen like him all the more. "That makes sense." But it was a million miles and dollars from anything Jensen could relate to. He'd gone to public school and state university.

"You're not what I would have expected of royalty." His whole face heated with the utter lameness of that comment. He wanted to groan into his glass.

Jared shrugged as his smile turned self-deprecating. "I guess breeding shows. You know that I'm only half royal? My mother is a commoner."

Which was common knowledge. "I'm kind of surprised that they -- meaning Montovia -- allowed them to marry."

"I suspect when my father found out about me, it was fairly hard to stop him." Jared smiled, a really sad little smile. "It was love at first sight for both of us."

"You and your dad?"

"I wanted a father so badly. My grandda tried hard to fill in. He lived with us when my mom was in med school, but he was in poor health."

"That must have been so hard. Bobby keeps me running."

"Exactly. I was your typical boy. I was into sports. My dad was pretty athletic, too. It created a bond between us that lasted until he died." Jared's voice cracked and he looked down, his face red. "Sorry."

"No. It hasn't been that long." Jensen wondered if he'd had any time to grieve for him or his wife. "I'm close to both my parents, too."

Jared nodded. "Bad as I am, my mom's worse. They were inseparable. She heads our version of the national medical association. I think that's the only reason she didn't follow him. Well, that and Jordan."

Jensen didn't have a clue what to say. "How did your dad meet her?"

"They met at university in the States. You know the story. They fell madly in love but had to part because my father was promised to someone else. Mom found out she was pregnant after he left to return to Montovia."

"And was too proud to tell him?" Jensen guessed. He could understand that, especially given those circumstances.

"He did find out eventually. But it was years later. I was ten."

"How did you end up king, if you're a bas--" Okay, calling a king a bastard, even if it were true, could not be the right thing to do.

"They did marry, and I was legitimized, but that isn't nearly as good as being born legitimate. Unfortunately, I was the only child they were able to have. It was me or some distant relative."

"It must have been quite a shock to go from the US to here." Jensen shuddered. He could not imagine what it must have been like to have been uprooted like that.

"Suddenly, I had to behave well all the time. It wasn't that easy. But the thing that bothered me the most then was giving up my last name for my father's."

"What was it?"

"Padalecki. Which was actually my mom's name. I wanted to keep it, but no one asked me." Jared sighed again. "My mom was really happy though, and that helped a lot."

"The whole thing sounds very romantic," Jensen said, trying not to be too cynical.

"I'd like to find the kind of love my parents had. Maybe next time." But Jared's eyes flicked to meet his.

And it felt like a punch in the gut. Which was silly, because this wasn't real and shouldn't feel like that. He held up his glass. "This is really good."

Jared's eyes narrowed for a second, but then he smiled. "Yes it is. I'm rather fond of it. What about you, Jensen?"

"Not nearly so interesting. I was born and raised in Texas. Bobby's mom drifted into town when I was just finishing my second year of college. I fell hard for her. She got pregnant. I married her. She left us when Bobby was a baby. I haven't heard from her since."

"Did you ever remarry?"

Jensen shrugged, and hid a smile. "Between my job and Bobby, I don't have much time for dating. What about you?"

"I don't date. I let my parents arrange my marriage for me."

"You're joking? Why on earth would you do that?" Jensen hadn't meant to sound so disapproving, but man, that was kind of archaic.

Jared held out his hands, spread apart, almost in an appeal for understanding. "It's traditional. Besides, I'm not all that interested in women. I had to have a wife to have an heir."

"I --" Jensen shut his mouth. He had no right to comment on other people's choices, especially given how poor his own had turned out.

"It wasn't that bad. I did love Sandra, and she was my best friend. We worked out an agreement about things before we married. When she died, I was just devastated." He looked away but not before Jensen had seen the sheen in his eyes.

"Will you let someone pick another wife for you?" Jensen managed to keep his voice perfectly uninflected.

"No. I've done my duty to Montovia. While I loved Sandra, I did not care for --" Jared's face flushed. "Next time I marry, it will be for me."

"I thought you said that you didn't --" Jensen stopped, looking at Jared. It was too much to ask, too personal. He opened his mouth to change the subject.

"I can marry whom I choose, regardless of gender," Jared said before he could get the words out.

Jensen couldn't even begin to imagine that. He wasn't even sure he wanted to. "Progressive much?"

"I'm not saying it wouldn't be huge news or that it wouldn't cause a major stir, even here, but it's legal. We're a bit farther along the line in terms of equal rights than the US."

"That wouldn't be hard." And he glanced away, disturbed that he was blushing.

Silence fell between them and Jensen settled back into the sofa, closing his eyes and drifting on the soft music. As tired as he suddenly was, it was still too early to go to bed.

Jared cleared his throat. "Am I putting you to sleep?"

When he opened his eyes, Jared was smiling softly at him.

Jensen smiled back. "No. I'm sorry. I'm exhausted from the flight, but I know if I don't stay up I'll be up at 3:00 tomorrow morning."

"How about a walk in the garden?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Jensen stood and swayed a bit. Putting his hand on Jensen's arm, Jared steadied him. It was weird that the heat from Jared's hand penetrated his clothes and warmed his skin. "Sorry. The brandy was stronger than I thought."

* * *

The gardens were softly lit, lush and verdant. As they walked, Jensen listened to the soothing cadence of Jared's voice as he spoke, pointing out various plants and flowers along the path. He was hyper aware of how tall Jared was, of how good he smelled, of how his muscles moved under his clothes. And mostly of how sweetly he smiled when he looked at Jensen.

He sat down on one of the benches along the path and Jared sat beside him, close enough to feel the heat from his body.

"Is your head clearer now?" Jared smiled softly, the invitation clear. As it had been pretty much since they'd been alone.

Jensen didn't have a problem with Jared wanting him. The problem came with him wanting Jared in return. -- and not just wanting him, either. It went deeper than that, to a bone-deep level that Jensen hadn't ever felt before. Oh, hell, he'd never had this kind of reaction to anyone. Jared felt so good next to him, safe and comfortable.

He couldn't deny the look in Jared's eyes turned him on something fierce. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"And if I were?"

Jensen looked down. The skin on his face felt stretched too tight, and he was sure he was bright red. He'd half-expected a denial. Or maybe even a punch in the face. "I'm not sure if I should be honored or insulted. You set all of this up for --"

"No. I admit to wanting to see you again, but I did most of this because you deserved it." Jared's tone was sincere.

"Most?" Jensen couldn't help but ask.

"Tonight's dinner was not part of the original schedule." And this time, Jared was the one who glanced down and blushed.

"I enjoyed it." Jensen stood, putting his hands in his pockets, and watching a slight breeze lift the leaves of the plant in front of him. "The thing is...I haven't...not with a man." He looked at Jared. "And certainly not with a king."

Jared's smile lit the garden. "Not even in school?"

Jensen choked. "Especially not in school. Are you nuts? They kill boys for that sort of thing in Texas."

"You're joking. I thought the U.S. was somewhat more progressive than that." Jared's eyes were stormy as he stood and took a step closer to Jensen.

"Welcome to Texas," Jensen said, forcing himself to look up and meet Jared's eyes.

"We're not in Texas." The timbre of Jared's voice was low and salacious. It ran pleasantly down Jensen's spine to pool in his belly. "Why me?"

Jared's smile got wider and his dimples deeper. "The easy answer would be to ask if you've looked in the mirror lately?"

What was the hard answer? His face hot, Jensen couldn't keep looking at Jared without getting lost in him. "Come on. There are a million good-looking guys in the world. Probably a few closer to home than Texas."

"Maybe. But not that many good-looking men who've saved my life."

The way his face kept heating up, Jensen wondered if there was any blood left anywhere else. Okay, one other place, but really, the rest of his organs had to be feeling the pinch. "So, just the physical then?"

"Or not."

"You don't know me. Not really."

"I know you're brave and loyal and beautiful."

What could he say to that? To deny it seemed too coy. There was no agreeing. He could not believe this was happening. How could he be getting hit on by a freakin' king? But then he looked at Jared, and he saw the man and wanted him.

Jared put a finger under his chin and made him look up.

"Tell me no." Jared was standing close to him, looking at him as if his answer mattered more than anything ever could.

The smell of Jared's spicy cologne played havoc on his ability to concentrate. A tremor passed through him.

"Yes," Jensen breathed, because if he didn't see this through, whatever this was, he'd regret it. And he already had enough regrets in his life.

As it was, he was completely unprepared for the feel of Jared's lips as they brushed across his. Such a simple touch should not spark like an electrical shock, shouldn't make his chest tighten, shouldn't steal his breath away.

One of Jared's big hands found its way to Jensen's cheek, and he leaned into the warm palm as it cradled his head.

"Yes," he whispered again.

Jared's mouth came down softly on his, staying a moment then pulling back. Before Jensen could protest, Jared was kissing him again. This time, his tongue nudged Jensen's mouth open --pushing inside and tasting him.

Something inside Jensen relaxed, some knot of pressure under his ribs that had been there for so long that he'd stopped noticing it. This was what kisses were supposed to feel like, and all the kisses he'd had before these hadn't been quite what these were.

Closing his eyes, Jensen gave himself up to kissing Jared. In this time and place, he could let this happen. He could revel in the feel of Jared's hands on his jaw, the slight rasp of stubble against his cheeks, the strong solid feel of big hands on his body, and mostly, the rightness of something he'd never allowed himself to believe he could have.

Jensen slid a hand up into Jared's perfectly groomed hair, messing it up as it slid through his fingers. "I've been wanting to do that."

"Feel free to do as you please."

"That could cover a lot of territory." Jensen wanted to explore it all; he wrapped his other arm around Jared's wide shoulders and pulled him in for another kiss. Admittedly, it had been a while since he'd kissed anyone, but that didn't explain how hard his cock was, nor the pounding of his heart, nor the desire to lay Jared down in the soft grass and strip him bare, then run his hands over every inch of him.

Out of breath, need sluicing through him, Jensen leaned back, far enough to break the kiss.

Jared immediately took a small step back, but he kept his hands on Jensen's shoulders.

Jensen was about to pull him close again when someone cleared their throat. He jumped, and stepped back, closing his eyes.

"Sir. You asked to be informed when it was time for Prince Jordan to go to bed," Ms. Allison said in a perfectly bland voice, as if she hadn't just caught her king kissing some strange man.

"Thank you, Ms. Allison. I'll be there presently." As she left, Jared turned back to him. "I'm sorry. When I'm home, I try and see him at bedtime."

"No problem." He did the same thing with Bobby -- not as much this year, as he was outgrowing it. "They grow up fast."

"Yes, they do." Jared drew a finger along Jensen's cheek.

Leaning forward, Jared kissed him slowly, deeply, offering a myriad of promises Jensen wanted to believe in. But life had taught him caution, and he pulled back. He exhaled slowly, but it did nothing to release the tension throbbing inside him. A long shower was probably the only way to fix that, but he suspected it would only be a temporary fix at best.

"I think we should say good night before we forget our good intentions," Jared said against his lips, but then stepped back.

Jensen took a breath, and nodded. "Will we see you in the morning?"

"For breakfast, yes. But I have engagements most of the day. I'll be at dinner. Unfortunately, it won't be private. Tonight was a rare treat."

Disappointment flashed through Jensen. He was an idiot to think he could monopolize Jared's time. "Comes with the job, I'm thinking."

"Can I walk you back to your room?" Jared held out his hand for Jensen to precede him along the path back.

It was silly that his heart sped up and he wanted to take Jared's hand and hold it. He laughed self-deprecatingly. "If you don't, I'll likely get lost and be wandering the halls for days."

"We can't have that, can we?" Jared's answering smile was bright and adorable.

He was so screwed.

* * *

The following day, both Jensen and Bobby were escorted by Ms Allison, and then Mr. Barton, through various museums. To Jensen's relief, Bobby didn't break anything.

There must have been a hundred people at dinner that night. To make it worse, they weren't seated anywhere near Jared. Bobby was bored and spilled his Coke all over the table. Twice. It was cleaned up without a word. One of the waiters even gave Bobby a sympathetic smile.

The only good thing was a note from Jared just before dessert, asking if Jensen would like to have a drink in his private rooms later. He met Jared's eyes across the room and nodded.

At Jared's returning smile, Jensen's heart started to pound and his cock -- which had been half-hard all day just thinking about the kisses they'd shared last night -- sprang up, full and aching. He drew in a deep breath, trying to think about something else.

"What?" Bobby looked up at him, suspicion written all over his face.

He wondered how perceptive his son was. "Nothing. A note from Jared asking me to have a drink with him later."

"Gonna do it?"

"Yeah. Does that bother you?"

Bobby shrugged. "Why should it?"

Oh, because your father was about to have sex with a man, Jensen thought. But nothing had happened yet, so there was nothing to tell. "No reason."

* * *

To Jensen's surprise, outside the double doors to Jared's rooms stood two uniformed guards. And they phoned Jared before letting him in. Jared was waiting for him in a small living room.

Jensen smiled at the magazines strewn across the coffee table, the suit coat tossed over the back of the sofa, and a pair of shoes under a chair. A big bowl of candy sat on the coffee table, not just chocolates either, but all sorts of soft and hard candies. It was less than half full.

When Jensen laughed, Jared's face went red. "I have a taste for sweets."

"Clearly," Jensen said, his mouth going dry at the sight of Jared dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt. He looked huge and edible. Even his hair was messy.

"Would you like a brandy?" Jared said holding up the bottle. "Or would you rather have a beer?"

"Take a guess." Jensen had liked the brandy just fine, but like everything else here, it was out of the realm of his experience. Right now, he wanted the comfort of the familiar.

"I don't know about you, but I'd rather have a beer. I only offer brandy because it's expected." Jared pulled two out of a mini-fridge under the drinks cart by the window. "I should have told you to change."

Before Jensen sat down, he took off his jacket and tie and opened the first two buttons on his shirt. He sat on the sofa beside Jared, holding his bottle with two hands in the hopes that the trembling of his hands wouldn't be as noticeable.

Jared tipped the bottle in salute before taking a long pull on it. As he watched Jared's throat work, Jensen felt lightheaded, and he breathed out unevenly.

"Nothing has to happen, you know?" Jared's voice was soft and mild. No expectations. No disappointment.

"What?" Jensen blinked at him. That wasn't what he'd been expecting, or to be honest, hoping for. Had Jared changed his mind?

"You seem...uncomfortable."

"No. No. I'm good. Just...you know."

Jared exhaled slowly. "Yeah. Me, too."

Jensen slid his arm around Jared's shoulder and pulled him in, kissing him slowly, deeply. He'd been afraid that yesterday's kisses had been a fluke, because it didn't seem possible that kissing Jared could be as good as he remembered. And it wasn't.

It was better.

His mind couldn't quite take in the rich taste of Jared's mouth, the slickness of his tongue, the softness of his lips. Jensen's whole body tightened as the kiss deepened. He felt dizzy with the scent of Jared in his lungs.

"I've wanted to do that since breakfast," Jared said against his lips. "I'm starting to find it hard to be in the same room with you and not touch you."

"Oh, yeah." Jensen reached for him again, kissing him. His tongue nudged Jared's mouth open, sliding in to taste and swirling over Jared's. The trembling inside him increased and he could feel an answer in Jared's body. His heart was pounding so loud and so hard, he could barely breathe.

His fingers were shaking as he slid them under Jared's shirt, finally touching his warm flesh. He couldn't believe he'd lived his whole life without knowing this feeling. But he couldn't think about it now, not with miles and miles of Jared's skin yet to explore.

He pulled off Jared's T-shirt and leaned forward to lick a stripe up the middle of his chest. Above him, Jared sucked in a ragged breath. Guess he was on the right track. Maybe it wasn't that different.

Jared reached for his shirt, pulling the edges, and sending the buttons flying. The shirt had been expensive, but Jensen didn't care, not with Jared's mouth licking a trail down his chest. A strangled moan erupted from him as the heat of Jared's mouth made contact with one of his nipples. He shuddered, leaning back on the sofa, his legs splaying out.

The heat was removed, but before Jensen could protest, he was shifted slightly and Jared settled between his legs. He felt huge lying nearly on top of Jensen. For a second, Jensen forgot about how much he wanted Jared, and considered trying to throw him off. Jared distracted him with a deep kiss. That worked to redirect his focus back to Jared, and he arched up, kissing back.

Then, it was hard to think at all. Jared's mouth was everywhere, and all Jensen could do was arch into it, shaking apart, and sweating. Somehow the rest of his clothes disappeared, and so did Jared's.

When Jared's mouth closed over his aching cock, the world dissolved into sheets of pure sensation and Jensen bucked up into the wet heat, moaning and begging him never to stop. Orgasm hit him like a runaway freight train, unstoppable and taking out everything in its path as it went. Jensen was its victim, and he went willingly.

At some point later, the sweat was drying on Jensen's skin, and he opened his eyes to see that adorable -- but now slightly smug -- smile on Jared's face. Jensen supposed Jared had a right to be pleased with himself.

"Hey," Jared said, leaning down and kissing him.

Jensen smiled sleepily. There wasn't much room on the sofa, not with both of them as big as they were, but he maneuvered them so that Jared was lying on his back and Jensen was on top of him. Moving slowly down Jared's body, he licked and kissed, listening for signals that he was pleasing Jared.

The trail down was different -- harder, hairier, and somehow more exciting than he'd ever let himself dream it would be. Jensen pressed his face into Jared's muscled stomach and breathed in the utterly male scent of him, letting it wash over him as he ran his hands down Jared's sides. He moved lower, nosing the thick hair at Jared's groin. The scent was strong there, more enthralling, more intoxicating.

He pressed a kiss to the head of Jared's cock and then took hold of it with his hand, testing the weight, the feel of it. Maybe he should be freaking out. But Jared's breath hitched, and he made a pleased kind of sound. It went through Jensen hard, and he wanted nothing more than for Jared to keep making those sounds.

"You don't have --"

"Shut up," Jensen ordered, his hand sliding up and down; getting a feel for it. Like everything else about Jared, his cock was proportionally huge. And for reasons Jensen wasn't ready to consider, that pleased the hell out of him. "Tell me you don't want me to?"

"No. No. I do. I just...don't want to force anything."

Jensen tightened his hand, moving it up and down once or twice, and chuckled when Jared's eyes rolled back. "Does it look like you're forcing me?"

"Perhaps not. Would you like to continue? Please?" Jared's voice was a breathless whisper.

"I can do that." But really, Jensen wanted to do more. He wanted to explore this new ground. After a couple of moments, he bent his head and licked the length.

Jared arched up, making the most wonderful whining sound. So Jensen did it again. And then he took the spongy head into his mouth. The precome on the tip tasted salty and slick and bitter. It was everything he'd never allowed himself to think about. And he loved it -- all of it.

The sound Jared made was a cross between a whimper and a gasp. That worked for Jensen, too. He kept going until Jared's hand slid into his hair.

"Close," Jared gasped.

Jensen's mouth was too busy to say okay. If he was going to do this, then he was going to do it and experience everything. Jared's whole body seized, and he moaned Jensen's name right before come flooded into his mouth. He managed to swallow some of it, but some of it ended up running down his chin.

When Jensen opened his eyes, Jared was smiling that huge adorable smile he had. His eyes were all soft and big and happy.

And it was the most wonderful thing Jensen had ever seen.

Then, Jared leaned up and licked the come on Jensen's chin. "Mmmm."

"Fuck." Jensen breathed out, feeling the blood surge through him.

"Oh, yes. I hope to."

Jensen wondered how he could blush after what he'd just done, but there he was, doing it again. "Yes."

"Not right now, I think."

"And not here," Jensen said, putting his head on Jared's bare chest, his fingers unable to stay away from the hard muscles of Jared's stomach. "Not enough room."

Jared closed his arms across Jensen's back and pulled him close. "Don't fall asleep."

"M'not. I need to get back to my room. Bobby will miss me."

"I know. I wish you could stay." Jared's hand slid down Jensen's back in a slow caress.

Jensen sighed, moving into the warm touch as best he could, reveling in the feel of big calloused hands on his skin. "I'm sure I have a little more time."

"Anything in particular you want?" Jared asked, his tone deep with promise.

He raised his head and kissed Jared. "I'm sure we can think of something."

* * *

Despite his best intentions, Jensen didn't get back to his rooms until almost dawn. No sleep for the wicked today. At least there was coffee waiting, and by the time Bobby dragged himself out of bed, Jensen had showered and had two cups.

"What are we doing today?"

"More touring. I think we're going to an olive oil processing plant. Is there something you'd like to do?"

Bobby shrugged. "No. The stuff yesterday on World War II was interesting. There's supposed to be another museum."

"I didn't know you were interested in that." Jensen scratched his head. He tried to pay attention to Bobby's many and varied interests.

"There's an on-line game where you need to know about it. I've played it a couple of times."

"Aren't you a bit young for that?" Jensen asked.

"No. Besides, shouldn't you be encouraging me to study?" Bobby gave him a disgusted look.

He snorted. "Where did you even find that?"

"Jordan showed me. And he's younger than me."

There was a knock at the door before Jensen could think of anything else to say. "Come," he called.

Ms. Allison appeared at the door. "Good morning. His Majesty asked me to let you know that he will be joining you for the tour of the olive oil plant this morning."

"Hasn't he seen it before?" Bobby asked.

"I think he wants to accompany you both."

"Um...is that unusual?" Jensen was studying a spot just beyond her left shoulder.

She wasn't looking at him, either. "A bit. But it's his plant-- in that he owns it."

"I thought..." He'd have to ask Jared about it. "Never mind."

Ms. Allison cleared her throat. "The reason I'm here is to explain... some of our protocol to you. In public --"

"We know. We have to call him sir. And not speak until we are spoken too. And walk a step behind him. And make sure we know that he's the king. Right?" Bobby said sounding awfully knowledgeable about it.

"Actually, that's not correct, Bobby. You're not one of His Majesty's subjects, so none of that actually applies to you," Ms. Allison said with a smile that faded quickly. She took a breath. "There's...something else. It isn't considered appropriate for you to touch His Majesty in any kind of familiar way in public."

That was directed to Jensen. And that blush he'd been trying to hold off exploded on his face. What did she think he might do? "No problem."

"Very good." She bowed slightly and left.

"That was weird." Bobby looked at him. "What's going on?"

"How did you know what to do?" Jensen asked.

"Jordan told me. I guess that was what he has to do. Must suck to have to call your dad sir in public."

"I don't know. I called my dad 'sir' any number of times in my life." Usually though, it had been when he'd been in trouble. And most of those times, it hadn't helped the situation any.

"Like I said, must have sucked."

This was so not a subject he was going to get into with his son. "Do you like Jordan?"

"He's okay. For a geek. But he knows a lot of cool online games." That seemed to be enough for Bobby.

* * *

The tour wasn't as awkward as Jensen thought it could have been. Jared was friendly in a reserved, almost withdrawn kind of way, with everyone. The staff seemed to know exactly how to act, and Jensen followed their lead.

The process of making olive oil was interesting enough to keep Bobby's attention, and Jensen could fake it.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Jared said, leaning close -- but not too close -- as they looked at huge metal vats of oil.

Jensen turned to look at him. He wasn't kidding. "Yeah. Very much so."

"You're lying, aren't you?"

"'fraid so," Jensen said, looking down. "I only understood about half of what they were saying. Though I think Bobby got more out of it than I did."

"He does seem rather captivated by the whole process." Jared was pleased with that. "Jordan hasn't shown much interest in it."

"Ms. Allison said you owned the company? How? Don't you have a country to run?"

"No, our parliament runs the country. I have an MBA. The day-to-day operations of the plant are actually done by the top management."

"Oh." Jensen looked down. So -- rich, adorable, as well as the fucking king of the world. How much further out of reach could Jared be? It really shouldn't matter to him so much. Yeah, and he was going to keep telling himself that until he believed it.

Jared cleared his throat. "I have a meeting this afternoon that I can't get out of. I'm going to have to leave you after the tour." A slow sexy smile lit Jared's face. "I might have a surprise for you later."

"Is it the kind of surprise I'm going to like?" Even out of reach, Jensen could not resist that smile. And for a little while, he didn't have to.

"It's not what you're thinking. But I'm hoping you'll like it anyway."

Lunch was in a café in the city square and, even without Jared with them, they were shown to a specially laid-out table, right by the window by the owner. The owner fawned all over Bobby and probably would have fawned over Jensen if he hadn't given her a dark look. The service was the best he'd ever had in a restaurant. There was a waiter practically waiting at their table for them to need something. And no one ever presented them with a check.

Jensen didn't know what to make of it. It couldn't be what happened last night. No one should even know about that. Okay, Ms Allison clearly knew, but she was at the palace, and presumably was in Jared's confidence.

* * *

"Mr. Ackles, a word if I may." A well-dressed older man beckoned Jensen after lunch. He looked vaguely familiar.

"What can I do for you?" Jensen asked politely, a line of tension tightening across his shoulder blades.

"We met briefly last night." The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm Stephen Ventner, lord of Randolph Hall."

"Okay." Jensen wasn't sure how to respond to that. And clearly the guy was expecting more than he'd gotten. Maybe Jensen should have faked being impressed. Oh yeah, like that was going to happen.

The guy looked down his nose at him. "I'm a friend of His Majesty's. I thought we might have a brief chat."

Jensen was fairly sure that nothing starting with that sentence could possibly go well. He straightened his back and met Ventner's eyes. "About?"

Instead of dropping his gaze as most people did, Ventner's expression hardened. "You needn't worry, I'm not going to warn you off. I already know the king to be quite stubborn. I wouldn't dream of telling him, or you for that matter, what you should be doing. Besides, I doubt it would do any good."

"I expect you're right about that." Jensen raised an eyebrow at Ventner and waited. He hated the feeling that he couldn't quite stand still enough.

"I think you should understand that His Majesty has set all of this up for you. So that you'll feel comfortable."

Jensen fought to keep his face completely blank. "Your point is?"

"That, despite all of this, we are a country that prides itself on our traditions. If you were to stay, then you be expected to follow them. All of them." Ventner's tone was vaguely ominous.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to tell me." And Jensen was fairly sure he didn't want to know, either. The tension across his back was getting worse. "But even if it's no business of yours, I won't be staying here."

Ventner studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if he were assessing the truthfulness of what Jensen had said. "I'm very glad that you understand the situation."

He didn't and he just glared at Ventner.

"His majesty is young and will let his heart overrule his good sense." Ventner was back to looking down his nose at Jensen.

Jensen's fists tightened at the insult and, before he thought better of it, he took a step towards him. The flash of fear on Ventner's face stopped him and he exhaled slowly. "I doubt he'd let anything override his duty. And it's not your place to say it even if it were true."

Ventner bowed his head slightly. "I meant no offense."

"You know, I'm not getting what you're trying to say here." Anything that dealt with Jared was worth at least checking out. He'd stand here forever hoping this guy would get to the fucking point.

"Forgive me. I simply wished to let --"

"That part I got. What I don't get is, what business is it of yours?" Jensen asked through his gritted teeth.

"It's of no consequence, now. I've taken enough of your time," Ventner said and hurried away.

Jensen was left standing there with his mouth open.

* * *

 

"So," Jensen said, coming into Jared's room later that night. "Who is Stephen Ventner?"

Jared rubbed the back of his neck and then shrugged. "The father of a friend of mine from school. Why?"

"He waylaid me this afternoon and we had the most bizarre conversation." With a deep sigh, Jensen repeated the conversation. "Thing is, he didn't say much of anything."

""He's a very political person and wishes we'd join the EU. He'd like to be elected to the European Parliament, I suspect. I'm against it joining." Jared handed him a beer.

"Thanks. I don't know that much about it, but I thought the EU was a good thing. You know, makes travel between countries easier." Not that it matted to Jensen, but he did have that much of an understanding of the European economy.

"In theory. But our industries simply could not compete within a European-wide market. And really, I dislike the idea of giving up our currency for theirs. Still, I can't see Ventner doing anything stupid about it." Jared took a long pull on his beer and set the empty bottle on the table.

"What do you consider stupid?" Because, to Jensen, that covered way too much ground.

Jared's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Oh, any number of things. It sounds like he was annoyed that I've been seen in public with you or something. That would be more like him."

"I take it he's not gay-friendly." Most of the people Jensen knew fit into that category. Why did this particular idiot bother him?

"He's not friendly at all. But I doubt seriously that he's dangerous."

Something about all of this triggered Jensen's cop instincts, and he knew better than to ignore them. "I don't know. Maybe I should have him checked out."

Jared laughed at that. "And how would you do that?"

"I could call my people back in Texas. See what they could dig up." Maybe he could fax some stuff to Chris. He'd know how to ferret out whatever information there was to find.

"From there? He's probably never even been to the States." Jared shook his head. "You're not going to do anything tonight, are you?"

"No. Not tonight." It was probably too late for that. And really, he had other things he wanted to do. Jensen took a deliberate step forward, and reached out for Jared.

A laugh burst out of Jared as he moved into Jensen's embrace. "Trust you to have your priorities right."

* * *

The following day, both Jordan and Jared joined him and Bobby at the World War II museum. Jordan was impossibly knowledgeable for someone so young, and Jensen wondered if the poor kid did anything other than study. But he couldn't help approving of Bobby's new interests.

After dinner, Jared and Jensen went to bed early, locking themselves in Jared's rooms and pretending nothing else existed for a few hours.

Jensen was just getting back into the suite early the next morning when his cell, which he'd put on a side table to charge, started to ring. No caller ID. He flipped it open. "Yeah."

"Didn't your mama teach you to be polite when you answered the phone?" Chris asked.

Couldn't be a huge emergency if Chris was joking with him. Jensen settled back on the sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table, taking a sip of his coffee. "She might have done, but I'm sure she didn't mean you. How on earth did you even get the phone to work here?"

"These are law-enforcement cell phones. They've got that dual operating system or something. Seriously, all I did was dial."

Yeah, Jensen remembered the hell the department caught for getting them. Seems no one thought they'd need to make a call outside of Texas. "What's so important that you have to call me at this hour of the morning?"

"I actually tried before but got no answer."

Jensen ignored the question. Chris might be his best friend, but that didn't mean he was ready to discuss any of this with him, or anyone. "You're lucky I picked up at all. I haven't been carrying it."

"You should be. I wanted to give you a heads up. You know those perps you shot?" Most people who knew Chris wouldn't have noticed the slight change in his voice.

All of the muscles in Jensen's back started to tense up. "Yeah. What about them?"

"They seem to be part of a for-hire assassination group."

"Fuck. You working on it?"

"Sort of. The Feds took the case away, but I've been keeping an eye on things. There's nothing. The fuckers seem to have gone to ground here. But you know, it doesn't give me the warm fuzzies."

"I got you. Thanks." Jensen's heart gave a little jolt. "Speaking of warm and fuzzies, can you run a check on a Stephen Ventner for me?"

"No problem." He could hear Chris reaching for something to write on. "What am I looking for?"

"Not sure. But he talked to me the other day, and I don't get why. Just look around. Maybe something on the EU."

"I'm on it." There was a slight pause. "Now tell me what the fuck is going on with you and _him_."

Jensen closed his eyes and breathed out sharply. "What are you talking about?"

"You seem to be rubbing elbows with the high and the mighty. Special dinners and olive oil factory tours." Chris' tone really should have been more mocking.

"I don't know what your problem is. That's what I came here to do." Jensen sat up a little, rotating his shoulders.

"Not like you're actually friends with the dude or something like that."

"I _am_ friends with him." Which was the God's honest truth.

Silence stretched out for a count or two. "Like friends. Because really, you're always saying you don't have those kinds of friends. Not with a guy, anyway."

For a second, Jensen thought about lying, but this was Chris and, while he might bust his chops long and hard, Jensen didn't lie to him. "Haven't before this. What are the papers saying? It hasn't been that long. Do I need to worry about my folks?"

There was another pause and Jensen could hear Chris processing what he'd just said but his voice was light when he spoke. "They've got to be reading the same stuff I am. But you know, I can read between the lines."

Jensen looked down at the coffee table and took a deep breath. "How much is there to read?"

"Look, it's mostly about the trip. What you and Bobby are doing. But there are a couple of pictures. And you look like you're...friends."

It shouldn't be the first thing people thought of when they saw two men together, especially when one of them was a freakin' king. "Okay. Anything else?"

"What's he like?" Chris asked soberly, as if it mattered to him.

But that was obvious, and Jensen appreciated it. "Not what you'd expect. Friendly." Jensen paused. "Sweet natured. Funny. Smart." Rich, unattainable, out of his league.

"Oh, I bet he is."

"I'll tell you about it when I get home." Because he couldn't bear to think about it now.

"Are you going to come home?" And it was a real question, with a real concern that maybe he wouldn't.

"Of course I am. Where else would I go? In case you've forgotten, my whole fucking life is there." And there was only this one thing here.

"You might --"

"No. That isn't going to happen. I've got to go." Jensen closed his eyes, and pushed down the hollow feeling in his gut.

"Okay. Later, dude."

"Right." Jensen closed the phone and pressed his head back against the back of the sofa. He'd need Chris when he got home.

* * *

That night, after making sure Bobby was in bed and not going to get out again, Jensen left for Jared's rooms. The palace was huge, and Jared had given him explicit written directions on how to get to his rooms. Jensen left them on the coffee table. He'd been there before. How hard could it be to find?

There were just too many corridors that looked exactly alike. He walked around, hoping to find his way without having to humiliate himself by asking anyone. After fifteen minutes of wandering, he came up on what he thought was a familiar corner and before he went around it he heard two of the guards talking.

"I know. I know. The Yank has been here what, five days, and already he's --"

Jensen couldn't catch the word he used. It sounded vaguely French. Or at least as much as he could recognize French without speaking it.

"Yeah. What is it with His Majesty? Not enough men in our country, so he has to import one from the States?"

"Still, he's been of service to --"

Jensen's face burned. With his shoulders set, he strode around the corner, and as soon as they caught sight of him, both guards jumped to attention, opening the door without calling first.

He stopped and looked at them. "Why are you just letting me in? Shouldn't you announce me, like you did yesterday?"

The first man's face went red. "You don't know?"

"How could he? He doesn't know our ways." The second man said and there was disapproval in his voice. He turned to face Jensen. "You might be asking His Majesty that."

"I think I will," Jensen said, striding in. "Jared," he called as soon as the doors had closed behind him.

"Jensen," Jared said as he entered the living room, wearing a light blue silk robe that clung to his wide shoulders and fell to mid-thigh.

All the breath left Jensen's lungs, and every thought he'd ever had disappeared like mist in the morning. There was nothing he wanted more than to run his hands over the silk, and then take it off and run his hands over Jared's silken skin.

Shaking his head to clear it before he got even more distracted -- which he admitted wouldn't be hard -- he said, "Um...Jared. So, how come your guys out there are more upset that I'm an American than that I am a guy?"

Jared stopped in his tracks and blinked at him. "Pardon me?"

"I just overheard your guards talking and they were..." Jensen stopped short. What was he thinking? "Never mind. Why did the guards let me in tonight without the usual announcement?"

Jared looked at him. "I asked them to."

"Any particular reason?" Because maybe that was the explanation. Jensen had a bad feeling he'd announced to the world that they were sleeping together.

"Tell me what you've heard." Jared's body was rigid, and his fists were clenched.

Jensen hesitated. The guards were entitled to think whatever they wanted. At Jared's look, he gave in and recounted the conversation. "And there was a word that he used. I didn't catch it but it sounded French."

"L'amoureux?" Jared's shoulder's lost some of their tension.

Jensen nodded. "What does it mean?"

"It's French. It literally means the lover. Traditionally, it's used to describe an inappropriate lover of the king. And before you ask, there have been a lot of them over our history." Jared scratched behind his ear and looked away.

"Enough to have invented a term for it? How bad is this?" Jensen had a sudden vision of him and Bobby being escorted to the border and asked not to come back. For himself, he'd deal with anything, but he couldn't open his son up to that kind of ridicule, especially if it might follow him home.

"It's more a term of affection than a slander."

Jensen folded his arms over his chest. Somehow, that wasn't all that reassuring. "Affection? How?"

"Occasionally, when the king has that inappropriate lover, he or she is of great service to the crown and to the country. I assume that by saving my life, my people see that as having done a service for the country and are grateful enough to accept you. As my lover. Companion. Whatever. You could accompany me and it wouldn't cause a scandal. Not that it would anyway."

Nothing was ever that easy. "How did they know? That we were …." Jensen paused. "When you went out with us the last couple of days, that meant something, didn't it? That's why everyone has been more...deferential."

Jared's face got red and he looked down, almost shy -- which was too adorable for words. "It could all mean nothing. But I've changed my plans, given you access to my rooms. And yes, I've accompanied you personally."

"So pretty much everyone knows we've slept together. That..." Why was it so hard to say, when it was so easy to do. "That I'm your lover?"

"Not exactly. I mean, you are my lover, of course. But what they think is that," Jared took a deep breath, "That we're unofficially courting."

"You told everyone we're...courting?" Jensen choked, his pulse picking up. He couldn't believe this. "And no one shot me?"

"This isn't Texas. It's perfectly legal," Jared said with an exasperated sigh.

"Legal, as in not getting shot for it. But not legal as in accepted." He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. No way any of this would fly back home.

"I have an heir. I don't think anyone is going to deny me my choice."

"Your choice? What does that mean?" Part of him was pleased beyond caring that Jared maybe felt that way about him, but the other part, the realist, did care. Deeply.

Jared shrugged, but didn't meet his eyes. "Not what you're thinking. Just a choice of a lover."

"So you can just --" Jensen waved a finger between them. "Is anyone else going to know?"

Jared stopped. "What difference would it make?"

"Well, let me see. If someone back home found out, I could lose my job." Admittedly, that wasn't as likely as it would have been a few years ago, even in Texas. But it could make his life damned uncomfortable when he got home.

"Good lord, you're joking." Jared sighed. "Oh, dear. You're not. I doubt it will make the papers. I mean, if I did anything formally, it would, but this is sort of speculation. Localized speculation."

Jensen thought about all the speculation about the English princes and how much he knew about them without even being interested. "The speculation makes the news."

"The press doesn't care about Montovia. We're not that important. I've had very little press. Most people in the U.S. haven't even heard of us." Jared sounded relieved about that.

"I should probably call my parents. And Chris." After their previous conversation, Jensen didn't even want to think about what Chris was going to say. He'd never, ever, hear the end of it.

"Who is Chris?" Something in his tone was just a hair off. And there was no mistaking the look in Jared's eyes.

Jensen tried not to smile. "Possessive much? He's my partner and my best friend. We met in first grade."

"Oh."

Jensen looked at him, and remembered about the robe, and all that he wanted to do with that big body under it. "Jealous?"

"Should I be?"

"Nope. Aside from everything else, Chris is straight."

That didn't seem to appease him. "So were you when you arrived."

"Actually, I wasn't. Not completely." Which turned out to be considerably easier to admit than he'd ever thought it would be. "Even as adorable as you are, I doubt you could have seduced a straight man."

"Ah, so you think I'm adorable." And Jared was grinning for all he was worth, dimples out in full force.

Jensen wanted to lick them. Would lick them. And many other things as well. Yeah, licking was a plan. "I might."

"What would get you to commit to the thought?"

"There are a couple of things we haven't gotten to yet." Jensen's pulse danced and he was suddenly short of breath as he moved to stand in Jared's personal space.

Jared's eyes lit up more. "There are. And would you like to try any of them?"

"I think that could be arranged." Jensen pulled his shirt over his head and reached for the tie on Jared's robe.

* * *

Jensen was shaking as he stretched out under Jared's hands, waiting for him to move, to take what Jensen was offering. He hadn't let himself think about this part of it, and now faced with doing it, he hadn't expected it to matter so much.

He was eased onto his belly. "I'd rather --"

"S'okay. We'll get there," Jared's lips pressed against the back of his neck, his warm heavy weight covering Jensen for a moment.

A shiver went through him as Jared's mouth moved slowly down along his back, licking kisses into his skin. He'd never thought of his back as particularly sensitive, but by the time Jared nuzzled the base of his spine, he was tingling with anticipation.

Those big hands of Jared's massaged his hips and spread his ass cheeks apart. Jensen opened his mouth to speak, to voice his surprise, something, but a gust of warm air went across his heated crease. Jensen groaned, sucking in a deep breath instead. He arched up off the bed when Jared ran his tongue over his hole.

"God, what are you doing?" Which was probably the lamest question ever, because really, Jensen knew. And couldn't quite believe it.

"That should be pretty obvious." Jared laughed. And bent his head down to do it again.

Pleasure trailed Jared's tongue, rippling through Jensen, and he forgot how to breathe. Still trying to suck enough air into his lungs, he canted his hips back, gasping, "More."

Jared held him open, his tongue swiping back and forth while Jensen slowly went insane. Stretched taut, overwhelmed by sheer lush pleasure, Jensen wasn't going to survive the onslaught. No one could. Each press of tongue and lips drove him closer to the edge. "Don't stop. Please. Please. Please," he begged.

He wasn't sure exactly when the first of Jared's slick fingers had pushed into him, but the second made an impression, if only because the pleasure took on a spicier flavor. Sharper. He went with it, chasing the sensations. Both fingers crooked and pressed, setting off a deep electrical shock inside him. "Fuck. Oh, fuck. Do that again."

"What? This?" Jared's long fingers sent another pulse through him.

"God, yes," he whined pathetically.

Jared laughed. Then gave him what he wanted again, for far too short a time, turning him and pressing his legs up.

Before he could feel too vulnerable, Jared covered him, positioning his cock, but also meeting Jensen's eyes. "Take a deep breath and push back when I push in."

Jensen managed to nod. Even though he wanted this, craved it, it was too much, too open, leaving him too exposed. He was trembling when Jared started to push into him.

It hurt. Enough to leave him shaking, trying to outthink the pain. Sweat broke out all over him, and he breathed out. Panting, Jensen pushed against him, half hoping that it would push him out. His arousal was flagging by the time Jared was fully inside him.

Very slowly, Jared pulled out and pushed back in again, his big hands soothing along Jensen's quivering thighs. It felt like Jensen was being split apart, but after another thrust, his body started to adjust. It was easier. And then the pain was gone, leaving a fullness that was not… wholly pleasant, but not awful or unbearable.

With the next thrust, Jared hit that spot inside him, and the world lit up like fireworks in the dark.

"Yes. God, again!"

"Good," Jared said, leaning down to kiss him before starting to move again, hitting that sweet spot with each thrust.

After a few more hits, Jensen let out a long slow moan, his mind disconnecting in favor of better things. All that existed in his world, at that moment, was the feel of Jared inside him sparking pleasure that defied all definition. "Harder," Jensen ordered, trying to arch into the thrusts.

It wasn't ever going to be enough. Jared's slick hand took hold of his cock and stroked him, pushing him closer to the finish line. His eyes rolled back, his body tightened and couldn't hold back any longer. Jensen came hard, calling out incoherently.

* * *

The sweat was drying on his back and Jared's fingers were stroking along it. Jensen was about three seconds from passing out.

"Don't go to sleep."

"You know, this not being able to spend the whole night together is getting old." Jensen stretched and felt his back pull. Being bent double hadn't seemed that uncomfortable when it was happening.

"Are you okay?" Jared asked, rubbing along his back.

"Sure." Jensen leaned closer and kissed him.

"I think I may have a solution to spending the night together, at least a temporary one."

Jensen opened his eyes. "Hmmm?"

"I have a hunting lodge in the mountains. And I was thinking we could go there for a few days."

"Sounds good. There's stuff for Bobby, and I presume Jordan, to do?"

"Of course. There's riding, and fishing, and a big field where Bobby can teach Jordan to play football--soccer."

"And while they are occupied?" Jensen grinned up at him.

"We can be as well. There's only a minimal staff there. And before you ask, yes, there is security. The lodge is behind a ten-foot electrical fence."

"When can we go?"

"Tomorrow afternoon." Jared looked away and then back at him. "You should understand that it's going to fuel the rumors about us."

"We'll be going back home right afterward, so that won't matter." Jensen's chest felt tight even thinking it. Which was stupid as shit, since it had only been a few days. And yes, the sex was great, but that's all it was. There hadn't been time for anything else. And there wouldn't be.

There was a moment of silence and then Jared sighed "I can't predict how the press will act. It might not notice us, especially if there is a juicy scandal somewhere else."

The thought of being caught warred with spending a few days alone with Jared and lost easily. "Fuck it. I want to go."

Jared's smile was like the sun coming out on a cloudy day.

* * *

The lodge was more like a small hotel than the palace in the capital. A long curved staircase ran along one wall leading up to the second floor. The main room was really too big to be called a living room, but too comfortable and inviting to be a lobby.

The furniture was heavy wood, and massive. It would be relaxing to lounge on. As in their suite, a huge flat-panel TV was attached to one wall of the room, and the boys made a beeline for it.

"Unpack your stuff first, Bobby," Jensen said, and he pointed toward the suitcase Bobby had dropped when he'd seen the TV.

"Aw, Dad."

"At least put it in your room."

"Can't someone else do it?"

"Not much in the way of servants here. In a few more days, we're going home and you're going to be back to cleaning up your own room." Jensen laughed at the look of horror on Bobby's face.

"I have to clean my room," Jordan said.

"That's right. Why don't you show Bobby where to put his stuff?" Jared suggested.

"Yes, sir." Jordan looked over at Bobby. "Come on. There's a TV in the lounge upstairs, too." He pointed to the staircase.

"Sweet!" Bobby said, putting down the remote and following Jordan out of the room.

As soon as they were alone, Jared leaned down and kissed Jensen. With Jared so much taller than he, it still felt weird when they kissed standing up, but after the first couple of seconds, Jensen stopped thinking about it and let the kiss -- and Jared -- have their way with him.

Jared's tongue pushed into his mouth, swirling around, teasing him. Moaning softly, Jensen opened to him, sliding his arms around Jared's back, and then a hand down to grope his ass.

Jared laughed against his mouth. "Oh, yes," he said, pushing back into Jensen's hands.

One of Jared's hands was on Jensen's face, holding his jaw tenderly, and the other slid down to Jensen's arm to pull him closer. Jensen moved in, leaning tighter against Jared's body, pressure already starting to build inside him.

"Dad, Jordan said --"

Jensen sprang back, letting go of Jared completely, coldness washing through him. Bobby's expression was shocked, horrified even.

"You were kissing him! Eww. Why would you want to kiss him? He's a guy." Bobby rubbed his face like he was trying to clear the image.

Jensen looked at Jared, his stomach sinking into his boots. With all of his worrying about everyone else, he hadn't actually considered what he was going to tell Bobby.

"Don't you know that boys kiss each other?" Jordan said, standing beside Bobby at the top of the stairs.

"Only if they are _gay_," Bobby sneered. He was such a Texas boy, and Jensen had never done anything to change that.

"Well, yes. Or you know, like both boys and girls." Jordan hadn't heard the insult in what Bobby had said.

Bobby turned to look at Jordan, his eyes narrowing. "Don't be an idiot. No one would want to do that. It's gross."

"Have you ever tried it? Because how could you know if you haven't," Jordan said in a perfectly reasonable tone.

"That's...gross. Worse than kissing a girl." But Bobby was looking down at Jensen, clearly still not getting it.

"Bobby, let's go out on the porch." Jensen straightened up and jerked his head towards the door.

"Jensen?" Jared's voice was tentative and his hand reached out to touch his shoulder.

Jensen sidestepped him. "Wait. I need to --" The look in Jared's eyes cut into him but the look on Bobby's face was worse. "Bobby. Now."

While Bobby would push wherever he could, he wouldn't disobey a direct order from Jensen. He came down the stairs and went out the front door without a word.

By the time Jensen got out there, Bobby was sitting on the steps with his elbows on his knees. "I can't believe you were doing that."

Praying for divine intervention or some idea of how to handle this conversation, Jensen sat down next to him. When no great inspiration hit him, he went with what he knew worked. Honesty. "I was, though. And I plan to keep doing it."

"Why? It's gross."

"Actually, it's not. It's nice. And fun." Lot's of fun. He was so going to remind Bobby of this conversation when he got to be a teenager. That was if Jensen let him live that long.

"Are you _gay_?" The word hadn't lost any of its negative connotations. He made it sound like it was the plague.

Jensen didn't know the answer to that himself. "Maybe. Probably. Are you going to have a problem with that?"

Bobby was silent for a minute or two. "It's gross. And I can't believe you're a fag. It's wrong." He shuddered and ran back into the lodge.

Jensen put his head into his hands; getting shot hurt less. But if he had any hope of having a relationship with anyone in the future, then Bobby had to eventually learn to accept it.

He loved his son more than life itself, but he wasn't to going let Bobby run his life or he wouldn't have one. Not that he had much of one in Texas, but there was the possibility.

A little while later the door opened, and Jensen felt someone sit down next to him on the steps.

"I take it that it didn't go well," Jared said softly, sympathy in his voice.

Jensen laughed, bitterly. "You have a gift for understatement."

"Do I need to tell you that it's probably jealousy as much as anything else?"

"Don't psychoanalyze my kid," Jensen snapped, his stomach clenching unpleasantly.

He heard Jared sigh and start to stand.

"No. Wait. Don't go." Jensen put a hand on his arm to stop him. And then kept it there, needing the warmth of Jared's skin to warm his cold hands. "I'm sorry I snapped. It's just that..." he sighed. "We don't fight much. It's always been him and me."

"And now it's more than that. I get it." Jared put an arm around his shoulder.

"Jordan doesn't have a problem with it?" Jensen asked, leaning into him.

"Jordan doesn't know there is anything to have a problem with," Jared said, and then sighed. "You Americans are too hung up on sex."

"Probably. But that might be to your advantage later." Jensen forced a laugh. He wanted Jared to make him forget everything.

"I'm hoping it will be." Jared moved a little closer. "Bobby?"

"I don't want to flaunt it in front of him since he's upset, but I'm not going to hide, either. I love my son, but I can't change who I am to please him." He knew what he was saying was right, but his gut twisted anyway.

"He wouldn't love you for doing it, either." Jared put a hand on his face and kissed him sweetly.

"So, where is my room in this place?" Jensen asked when they finally pulled apart a few minutes later.

He rested his head against Jensen's forehead. "I don't know if you've noticed, but it's somewhat smaller here than at the palace. And as such, I have a favor to ask of you?"

Jensen looked down to hide his smile. "What would that be?"

"Do you mind sharing with me?"

"I think that can be arranged. But it's going to cost you." Jensen put a hand on Jared's neck and brought his head back down for a kiss.

"I understand." Jared's smile was blinding. "I'm willing to give whatever recompense you decide is correct and fair."

"You haven't even asked what I want?"

"It doesn't matter." Sliding his arms around Jensen's back, and pulling him closer, Jared kissed him again.

* * *

Later, Jensen laid Jared out on the huge bed. "I'm going to lick every inch of you."

Jared nodded, his eyes huge and dilated. "Whatever you want."

"Oh, we'll get to that," Jensen promised, putting a tube of lube under the pillow. Something flashed in Jared's eyes. "What? I've let you..."

A tremor went through Jared's body. "No. It's okay. I want to. It's just that...it's been a very long time."

He put a hand on the side of Jared's face. "You know I won't hurt you, right."

"Of course not. Though it's amazing how easily you're distracted."

"Distracted? We'll see about distracted."

Jensen leaned down to kiss Jared, but as soon as Jared started to respond, he moved away, concentrating on Jared's neck and then his chest. Swirling his tongue over Jared's skin, listening for the sweet little sounds he made, Jensen wanted nothing more than to keep hearing him make them.

He especially loved the sounds that Jared made when his mouth touched Jared's cock. Deep and low, the sound pooled heat at the base of Jensen's spine and made him want to give and take everything Jared had to offer.

Nothing in his life ever suggested that sucking cock could be such a profound turn-on. He'd known he'd wanted it. But he'd never expected it to be like this. The smooth hard taste, the musky smell, the feel of Jared shuddering under his hands made his own cock ache, tightening with each stroke of Jared's cock into his mouth.

Jared's hand in his hair made him pull back. "Soon," Jensen promised, easing Jared onto his belly.

With his fingers shaking, he slid one along the exposed crease to touch Jared for the first time. It was easier than it should have been.

"Okay?" he asked, as he pressed his finger in very slowly, going deep to find that place inside Jared that would make stars sparkle. The heat and constriction closed around his finger, and he groaned. So did Jared.

Jared's eyes were huge, hot, wanting, waiting. He nodded jerkily. "Good. Yeah. Okay."

As Jared had done with him, Jensen spent a long while just using his fingers, stretching, listening for any sound that might say that Jared wasn't okay with this. But his moans, soft and pleading, said the opposite.

And when Jensen finally slid into his heat, he was pretty damned sure that Jared was loving it. God knows, he was. It felt like he'd come home. Like this was something he'd missed his whole life. Now that he'd finally given in, it was the most amazing thing he'd ever felt.

He gripped Jared's narrow hips and moved languidly, trying to draw it out, make it good, make it last.

"Harder. Faster. More," Jared moaned, trying to angle his hips into Jensen's thrusts.

"Easy. Easy." But Jensen pressed in with more force and speed.

A grunt was Jared's only answer. Jensen wrapped his hand around Jared's red dripping cock, and stroked him. "Come for me," he whispered.

And Jared did, shaking and swearing.

Pressing in a few more times, Jensen couldn't hold out any longer, and he came hard, deep inside Jared.

* * *

The following morning, the four of them had breakfast together.

"What do you say to a ride and a picnic?" Jared asked, taking a sip of his coffee and closing his eyes with a sigh of pleasure.

Jensen smiled at him. "Sounds good to me. Bobby?"

"No." Bobby glared at him. "I don't want to go."

Jensen exhaled. "Fine. But you have to stay inside. What about you, Jordan?"

Jordan looked at him and then shook his head. "I'll stay with Bobby. If that's all right with you?" He addressed that to his father.

"Fine, son. I'll have the cook put together lunch for us and meet you back here in, say -- " he looked at his watch -- "half an hour?"

"Works for me." Jensen frowned. "Wait. I don't ride English."

"I'm sure we'll find something for you to ride. Jeans and boots?"

Jensen nodded.

Jared, however, did ride English. He showed up wearing high polished boots and tight riding breeches that hugged every inch of his long, long legs. For a second, the whole world stood still and all Jensen could do was stare, his heart crashing against the wall of his chest and his cock filling in record time, straining up hard against his jeans.

A shiver went through Jensen. He wanted nothing more than to strip Jared bare -- except for the boots of course -- and lie down in the grass so that Jared could fuck him.

To that end, he took a step forward. Jared's eyes were hot and deep and knowing. Jensen started to reach out, but the sound of hooves on dirt thrust him back into reality. The stable hand brought him his horse.

"Fuck," Jensen breathed.

"Later," Jared said, his smile full of promises.  


* * *

Half an hour later, Jensen galloped full speed across the flat land, the wind in his hair, the sun warm on his skin. It had been a long time since he'd been on a horse. He'd forgotten how much he loved it.

"I know a place for lunch. Interested?" Jared said, when Jensen had brought his horse to a walk again and was beside him.

Just looking at Jared sitting on his horse in the sun made Jensen's pulse beat harder. "Maybe not just lunch?"

Jared's answering chuckle was low and deep and sent tendrils of anticipation into Jensen's gut.

They rode into a wooded area, following a dirt path until they came out on a lake. Blue water glimmered in the sun. It was perfect.

Jared put lunch on a large blanket and then lay down on his side.

"Sweet," Jensen said, taking in the food and Jared. He leaned down for a kiss. Jared opened under his mouth, groaning. Jensen closed his eyes and gave himself up to the sweet warmth of Jared's mouth. He pressed Jared down onto the blanket and started on the buttons on his shirt. Jared's hands worked on his belt and zipper.

Later, lying naked next to Jared in the sunshine, Jared's big hand caressing his belly, Jensen wondered what it would take to stay here forever. Closing his eyes, drowsy, he let himself imagine it for a moment. A shudder went through him. Would that he could make it so.

"Hungry?" Jared asked, his hand still moving along Jensen's skin, making it hard to think about anything else.

"Yeah."

"There's food in the cooler." Jared's hands dipped a little lower, flat and soothing. "We should get up and get dressed before we get too sunburned."

He never wanted to move again. "But you're right. Food and clothes."

Jared's hands slid down his back and squeezed his ass. "You know, I have a hard time keeping my hands off you."

"You've said that. It's not such a bad thing." Jensen leaned down to kiss him, slowly, thoroughly.

After lunch, they stripped off again to swim in the lake, though little swimming actually took place. Eventually, the sun was too low on the horizon to ignore any longer.

"If we're going to have dinner with our sons tonight, we had better get a move on it," Jensen said, reaching for his clothes.

Yes, you're right." Jared sighed, reaching for his as well.

After they'd cleaned up and repacked, Jared came to stand next to Jensen and slid a hand onto his nape, pulling him forward for a quick kiss.

Warm and sated, Jensen touched Jared's cheek. "I wish…"

"Yeah." Jared sighed. "Me, too."

Jared gathered him close, holding him against his chest -- warm, smelling of sunshine and open air. Jensen put his head on Jared's broad shoulder and just let himself be held for a moment.

"It's time to go." Jared dropped his arms and stepped back.

Jensen missed the warmth. But as much as he might want to, there was no arguing with the truth.

They rode slowly toward the lodge, stopping now and then to lean across the distance of their horses to kiss or touch.

Two shots rang out from a group of trees to the left. Jared and his mount went down. The horse scrambled to its feet, side bleeding, and took off.

For one terrible second, Jensen's limbs all went numb and he couldn't move. A heartbeat later, he was in control of himself again. He dropped to the ground and released his horse. The mare took off toward home.

Several more shots were fired, each getting successively closer as Jensen ran as fast as he could to where Jared was down. Fear coiled like lead in the pit of his belly. As he was moving, he pulled out his cell phone, dialling the number for security with shaking fingers.

"Security. This is officer Preston."

"The king is being shot at on the range. Get someone out here now."

"Where are you?"

Jensen looked around, then at the sun. "There's a group of trees and several large rocks to my left, facing toward the lodge, where the shooters are or were. We're about twenty minutes slow ride due south of the lake."

"I know where you are. Stay there."

"Right."

A bullet flew past his head and he threw himself over Jared.

Jared grunted. "Fuck."

"Where are you hurt?"

"I think a bullet hit my shoulder. It hurts like hell and my ankle hurts, too. I think my horse fell on it." Jared shifted under him, trying to move. "Why are you lying on me?"

"I'm protecting you." Jensen moved off. The shooting seemed to have stopped for the moment. He glanced at the grove of trees, but couldn't see anyone in the dim light. "Let me see your shoulder."

After putting Jared's head on his thigh, Jensen carefully eased Jensen's shirt out of the way. "It's a crease. Not even bleeding that badly."

"Stings like hell. I can feel my ankle swelling. I doubt you'll get that boot off."

"Probably got more support with it on, anyway." "Were you hit?" Jared looked up at him.

"No." Jensen shook his head. "How the fuck did they get in here?"

"There's a lot of fence and not a lot of people to protect it." Jared tried to sit up.

"Stay the fuck down! Whoever it is could still be out there." Jensen shoved him flat again, keeping a hand on his chest.

"Don't you think they would have shot you by now, especially since you're sitting up?" Jared pushed on his hand.

He pushed down harder. "Don't move. Fuck, we shouldn't have been out like this. I know better. I shouldn't have allowed you out if there was any kind of threat." Jensen wanted to find whoever was out there and make sure they didn't threaten what was his again.

"What do you mean allowed me out?" Jared's tone was annoyed. "Who's in charge here anyway?"

"At the moment? I am." The indignant look on Jared's face was priceless, and at another time Jensen would have kissed it off him.

The emergency vehicles were coming at them at a ridiculous speed, and Jensen sincerely hoped they slowed down before they ran over their king. Two Ford Broncos stopped at least five feet in front of them, plenty of room to spare.

"The king's been injured. Get him to safety, now!" Jensen ordered as soon as the first of the uniformed guards were out of the vehicle. They helped Jared to his feet and into the car, then sped back to the lodge.

Half a dozen armed guards remained.

"We'll need to get over to the left there," Jensen pointed to the spot where he thought the shots had come from.

"Why?"

"We need to check for bullet casings to run forensics, then we'll know what kind of gun they were using. What's your name?" Jensen asked.

"Jason Preston, sir."

"Okay, Jason. Who's your superior officer? And where is he or she?" Everyone seemed to be the same rank, and no one was older than early twenties.

"He's back at the lodge," Jason told him.

"Your monarch is threatened -- shot -- and the supervisor stayed in the lodge?" Jensen shook his head, fighting to remember that it wasn't this person's fault.

"Beggin' your pardon, sir, but he's the supervisor. No reason for him to have to go into the field anymore. That's for the young ones, like us." He gestured to his companions.

Sighing heavily, Jensen folded his arms over his chest. "All right. Today's your lucky day. You six are going to learn a couple of new things about what to do with a crime scene."

Jensen started to explain in detail what the six of them were supposed to do. After asking for questions, he sent them all to their tasks.

It was only after he'd returned to the lodge that evening and was heading for his rooms that he realized what he'd done. And what was worse, not a single person so much as asked who the hell he was to be giving orders.

He shrugged, and turned to go upstairs. He'd better talk to Jared and see how badly he'd mucked things up.

* * *

Jensen approved of the two guards outside Jared's bedroom. They snapped to attention when he came toward them and opened the door for him in without a word. Well, it was his room, too.

"Jared," he said, when he didn't immediately see him.

"In here," Jared called.

Jensen went into the bedroom and found Jared in bed, an older woman fussing over him. She looked like Jared, but her short dark hair was shot with grey.

"Momma, I'm fine. Aren't there rules about treating close relatives?" Jared complained, in a tone peculiar to adults whose parents were making them feel like children again.

Jensen couldn't help his smile. He'd used that same tone many times with his own mother over the years.

"Shut up, Jared. I can treat whomever I want," she said, tartly, but not without some amusement. You could take the girl out of Texas, but that didn't do much to change her accent, even after all the years she'd lived here.

Jared sighed loudly, and Jensen tried not to smile.

"How is he?" Jensen asked.

She turned around and eyed him up and down. "He'll be fine. I checked the dressing and it's clear. His ankle is sprained, not broken. See if you can get him to sleep tonight."

Jensen hated that he blushed, but didn't drop his eyes. "Oh, he will."

"Good." She came forward, her hand out. "I'm Sherri Deveraux."

He shook her hand. "Jensen Ackles. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. ... Dr. ... ma'am --" Jensen cleared his throat. "How did you get here so fast?"

"I prefer doctor, but really, Sherri will be fine. And it's been hours since the shooting. I had them fly me here as soon as I heard what happened. I'm still the dowager queen. They pretty much do what I tell them to." She said it with a wide smile that was pretty familiar.

He couldn't help but return it. "Good."

"See if you can get him to take the painkillers."

"No." Jared sat up. "I'm not staying in bed, either. You need to go see your grandson."

"Don't even think about getting up," she said, putting a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "I reassured both of the kids that you were fine already. I'm sure your son would much rather see you."

Jared subsided back onto the bed and glared at her. "Send Jordan in, okay?"

Jensen had to fight not to laugh at Jared's put-upon look.

As soon as Sherri left, Jensen sat down on the bed and took Jared's hand and then brought it to his lips. It was a girly thing to do, but he couldn't seem to help himself. "How are you?"

Jared's smile was soft. "I'm fine. My shoulder is a bit sore and so is my ankle, that's all. She's just pissed that she got here after the fact. I'd already been patched up by the doctor here." His smile got wider. "I've had a complaint from the guard captain about you, too."

At the smile, Jensen relaxed. "Yeah? What'd he say?"

Jared leaned back on the pillows and smirked. "That you were impeding their investigation."

"Really? That's surprising, since none of those kids knew a thing about what they should have been doing."

"I'm sure you set them all straight." Jared put a hand on his cheek and nudged him forward into a kiss.

Jensen sighed into it, letting himself relax a little more. He put his hands against Jared's chest and felt his heart beat strongly under his fingers.

"Damn right, I did," Jensen said when he pulled back.

"Good. I told the captain that you had a free hand."

"What did he say to that?" Jensen chuckled. He could just about guess.

"Yes, sir. What else was he going to say? I'm his boss, remember." Jared smiled that sweet smile that raised Jensen's pulse beat faster.

"Dad!" Jordan came rushing in and jumped up on the bed, but he hugged his father carefully. "They made me wait and wait."

"I know. But I had grandma tell you that I was fine when I came in."

"You were shot! How could you be fine?" He turned to Jensen. "Why did you let him get shot?"

Jared's face went red. "Jordan! It's not Jensen's fault."

"Then whose fault is it?" he asked, sounding like he was going to go after whomever it was himself.

"It was the bad people who shot your dad."

"I want you to find them and shoot them!" Jordan put his hands on his hips.

Jensen wanted to hug him. He was as adorable as his father, so fierce in his protection. "I'll try. But first I'd better go find Bobby."

"He's in the game room," Jordan said, sitting down next to his father.

* * *

Jensen hoped that the day apart would have cooled Bobby's anger. He hated having any kind of breach between them. It happened of course. Bobby got angry, especially when Jensen didn't let him do something he wanted to do. While he wasn't exactly nervous about it, he wasn't sanguine about letting it go on for too long, either.

He pushed open the door of the game room and Bobby looked up. Before Jensen could do more than step into the room, Bobby was on him, wrapping his arms and legs around Jensen.

"They said you were okay, but are you? Did you get hurt? I wanted to come find you, but they wouldn't let us leave the house." Bobby buried his head against Jensen's neck. His whole body was shaking.

Jensen breathed in the scent of his son, letting his concern wash over him. "I'm fine, son. Really. I was out trying to get those guys to do their job --"

"Why did you have to do it? Couldn't someone else do it?" Bobby pulled back enough to look at him and his cheeks were wet.

"Apparently not," Jensen said, reluctantly setting him down. He wiped a thumb across his cheek and smiled at him. "Hey, what's wrong? You knew I wasn't hurt. Jared was the one who was shot. And he's fine."

"I know." Bobby looked down. "I just..." He sighed. "I just wanted to see you. To make sure. And no one would let me see you."

Jensen crouched down and took him into his arms again. "I've only just returned to the lodge. I checked on Jared --"

"You went to see him first?" Bobby pulled back, out of his arms.

Jensen sighed. He wanted to hold Bobby close, but clearly the doors were closed. "He was the one who was shot. So, yes, I made sure he was okay."

"You really like him, don't you?" Bobby asked. There might have been an ever-so-slight thaw in his tone, if not in his expression.

Closing his eyes, Jensen said, "Yeah. I kind of do."

"Are we going to have to stay here?"

Jensen's gut tightened. "No."

"You sure? I mean, if you like him, and he likes you." Bobby said it as if that were the natural progression of things.

And how Jensen wished it could be. "It's not that simple. Do you want to stay here?"

Bobby paused, clearly weighing the idea. "Not really. I guess I would if you stayed, but I'd rather go home."

Home. Yeah. "We will."

* * *

"Kane," Chris said, answering on the first ring.

"It's Jensen," he said, sitting down on a low brick wall in the garden. He hadn't wanted to disturb Jared.

"Son, what the _hell_ is going on with you? Leave you alone for five minutes and people are shooting at you. _Again_." As much as there was mocking in Chris' tone, it didn't hide what else was there.

"You got anything for me?" Jensen asked, pressing his fingers against his eyes and fighting a yawn.

"Probably less than what you've got there. Feds aren't talking. I think they're stumped," Chris said, sounding frustrated.

Jensen stomach sank. "Nothing else?"

"That guy you mentioned, Ventner. He's clean as far as we know."

"You sure? I mean, something about him just didn't seem right."

"He doesn't like your boy, but he's not making a secret of that or that he wants Montovia to join the EU. He stands to make a killing financially if they do. But I can't tie him to the assassination group." And if anyone could ferret out the information, it would be Chris.

"Fuck. I just have a bad feeling about that dude. Add to that, the guards here are pathetic. Don't know fuck about anything. Worse than the smallest podunk town in East Texas." Jensen told him what happened on the range.

He could hear Chris sigh. "At least you got the ballistics. What are you doing about his security?"

"In case you've forgotten, I'm not in charge here. They've increased the guard." A cool night wind drifted through the garden, and Jensen shivered.

"You should probably drag the king's ass back to the palace in the city."

"I actually think it's safer here. At least a couple of the guards seem to have bought a clue -- once it was explained." He looked up as two uniformed guardsmen passed. They both saluted him.

"The lot of them probably just need training. You know, Cap'n Gibson would probably let you stay for a while. Sounds like they need someone."

Extending the trip would only make it all the harder for him, and Bobby too, when they had to leave. His stomach twisted harder. "I'm not asking, and we're not staying."

There was a pause. "Why not? Don't you...care about him?"

He wasn't going to tell Chris that he cared more than he could possibly put into words. "It can't work out well for us. This is all too fucking much."

"Fuck that. Jen, man, I know you. If you got this far, don't let it go." Chris sighed loudly. "Maybe I'll come over there and wap you upside the head. See if I can't knock some sense into you. Then, I'll find myself that princess." Damn, if Chris didn't sound half serious.

"If you really want to come here, why not ask Gibson. Maybe he'll let you come train them."

"Don't be stupid. You're already there. Jen --"

"No. Okay, just no. This isn't a fairy tale. There's no happy ending gonna happen."

Chris swore. "Dude, you're such an idiot."

"Probably. You'll pick us up from the airport?"

"'course. But you're making a mistake."

"I can't live like this." Jensen closed his cell phone and put his head in his hands.

* * *

Later that evening, when both boys were in bed and Jared's mom was in one of the many guest rooms, Jensen finally got back to their room.

"Chris thinks we should go back to the palace," Jensen said, sitting on the edge of the bed. It might be easier for all of them if they did.

"Why would he even comment on it?" Jared's tone wasn't quite unfriendly, but clearly he wasn't happy hearing about Chris.

Until he met Chris...which he'd never do. So, it wasn't worth worrying about it. "He's worried about your, our, safety. He's a good cop."

"I have two more days off, and I don't want to go back."

Really, grown men should not pout, and Jensen shouldn't have that soft feeling in his chest seeing it. "Even though there are more guards in the palace, it's pretty clear they aren't trained worth a damn. I've put the fear of God into the ones here. I think it's safe to stay."

"You know, you could stay and train them." It was said grudgingly, as if Jared didn't want him to stay, or maybe he didn't believe Jensen would stay.

Jensen forced a laugh. "As if my boss would go for that. Besides, you can afford better training for them than I can give. I've only got a couple of classes in forensics and a couple more in security tactics. You could get an expert in here to train them right. You should, too."

Jared's shoulders slumped a little. "I suppose that's a good idea."

"What's wrong? Are you in pain? I can wake your mom."

"Do not wake my mom. God, she's impossible." Jared's smile brightened a little bit.

"But you love her."

"That doesn't mean she doesn't drive me crazy."

Jensen laughed. "I know what you mean."

"Are you going to get into bed with me any time soon?" The eagerness was lovely to hear.

"I am. But your shoulder --"

"Is fine. There aren't many nights left. I don't plan to waste any of them."

Jensen understood. "You are going to rest against the headboard and I'm going to do all the work."

"I can live with that."

* * *

The phone by the bedside rang, jarring Jensen out of his dreams. Jared fumbled for the phone, turning and grunting, dislodging Jensen from his chest.

"Hello," Jared mumbled, his hand reaching out to stroke down Jensen's back. He listened for a second or two, and then said, "I'll ask him," putting the phone on hold.

Jared sat up, and Jensen slid down so that his face was pressed to Jared's thigh. Since he was there, Jensen slid his tongue out and licked the hairy skin. "Mmmm ..."

"None of that." Jared put his hand in Jensen's hair.

"Tell them to go away," Jensen said, not lifting his head. "It's too early to get up."

"Do you want to talk to the guy they've sent up from Guard HQ to investigate?"

Jensen forced his brain to focus and he sat up. "I'm surprised they even asked about it."

"I told them to keep you informed. Thought you'd want to know. Besides, it will let you see some of our operations."

"Okay, so I get to get out of this warm bed, with a warm you in it, and go to work." Jensen let out a huge sigh.

Jared smirked at him. "You don't have to."

"Yeah, right. Tell them to give me ten minutes." But really, Jensen wanted nothing more than to lay Jared back down and fuck him all morning. And yes, it did occur to him that he'd come a long way in a short time.

Fifteen minutes later, he strode into the security offices in the basement. Everyone snapped to attention -- even the secretary stood up. It was freaking weird.

For another second, Jensen stared at them and they stared back at him. He cleared his throat. "Okay, who's in charge here?"

"I believe that would be me. I'm Tom Welling, assistant director for operations," a dark-haired man about Jensen's age said.

"Why isn't the director of operations here?" Jensen asked. "Your king is shot, and the head of security doesn't even bother to find out what's going on?"

"He sent me. Besides, he's in the capital, in meetings." Welling's tone was perfectly correct, but Jensen could hear his annoyance.

This wasn't the place to discuss this. "I know this isn't your fault."

"Damned, right it isn't --"

Finally, someone with a backbone. "Let's talk in the office."

Welling nodded and started to follow him into the captain's office. The guard captain also started to follow, but Jensen shook his head. "Just him." The look in the captain's eyes when Jensen closed the door was worth it. Maybe that idiot would think twice before he left all the work to his subordinates.

Jensen leaned against the edge of the desk and folded his arms over his chest. "Two things. One, I want to know exactly what's happened with the investigation of the shooting. And two, what's being done to make sure it doesn't happen again?"

Standing at attention, Welling's expression was first startled and then, surprisingly, approving. Jensen's estimation of him went up. "We ran ballistics on the shell casings -- that was good work having the boys retrieve them --"

"Why so shocked? Any reasonably trained cop, even from a small town, knows how to investigate a crime scene."

"We're not actually police, we're a guard. Para-military. It's different than in the States, too." There was no apology in his tone, just a statement of facts.

"Answer the questions."

Welling stood straighter. "The bullets were made here, and match the ones that were used in Texas. We think we know who the terrorists are. We hope to have them apprehended by the end of the day. Security's been tightened around the king. No one has access to this facility without proper screening."

Jensen was relieved. "Good. And thanks. Why is everything handled by second and third in command? I get the feeling your top people don't want to do anything."

"Does your chief come out for an investigation?"

"With something as big and important as this, he would be very much on hand. Even before the attempt on the king, he was at several of the king's appointments and receptions." "It's not like that here. The top positions are mostly hereditary and don't require any training."

"I so don't get that. Even politically appointed positions require that the person actually do the job."

Welling shrugged. "That's how it is here."

"You seem competent."

"I've got an M.A. in criminal justice from one of your universities, but I'm a commoner. I can only go so far."

"Besides being unfair, that sounds incredibly short-sighted."

"It's a fact of life, here. I have to accept it."

The stupidity of that made Jensen want to grind his teeth. "Have you thought about a real police force? Something maybe even separate from the guard?"

Welling laughed. "You're not the first person to suggest that, but the present guard would have to be completely restructured to allow for it. And traditions --"

"Yeah," Jensen sighed. "How would this come about? I mean, if you can get past all the traditional stuff."

"You might be able to --" Welling's face went red, and he cleared his throat. "You could suggest it to His Majesty."

It took effort on his part to hold Welling's gaze, but Jensen managed. "What would that do?"

"The king's designate is head of the guard. He or she would have the power to do the restructuring needed. It wouldn't be quick or easy, but it could be done."

"But they could just take it upon themselves to restructure or redesign." That sounded almost too easy.

"We thought that you might be able to --"

Jensen was already shaking his head. "The problem with that is I'm only going to be here for a few more days."

Welling looked down, his face still red. "Oh. I thought that you might --" He stopped. "We were mistaken about the nature --" He stopped again. "I'm sorry."

Jensen wanted to say that he'd stay if he could, but that wouldn't help or be the truth. "I'll talk to the king about it. Maybe it will help."

"At this point, anything will be helpful."

"Thank you for the information." Jensen pulled out one of his business cards. "Let me know when you catch those guys."

"Sure. Thanks for your help." Welling handed him a card as well and held out his hand.

* * *

After his meeting with Welling, Jensen went back to their suite, hoping to entice Jared back into bed for a while. The door to their bedroom was ajar, but not open. He could hear voices murmuring as he came in. Silently, he moved across the room to listen.

"What do you hope to accomplish?" Jared's voice was cold, angry. But there was an undertone of fear, too.

"I've tried reasoning with you and you never listen. You're worse than your father." It was Stephen Ventner in with him. "It is essential that we join the EU."

Jensen eased back against the wall and could see Ventner holding a high-powered rifle pointed into the room. His heart started to pound.

Okay, he needed to distract Ventner, maybe get him out of the bedroom. But definitely get his attention away from Jared.

Silently, he moved to the phone and picked it up. It was dead.

"How will killing me accomplish anything? Your cousin isn't in line for the throne anymore."

He couldn't see Jared from where he was standing, but Jensen could hear his calm -- more calm than Jensen felt.

He pulled out his cell, dialing Welling's cell.

"Welling."

"Get to the king's quarters right now. Armed," Jensen said as quietly as he could, and closed his phone, hoping he hadn't made a huge mistake in trusting Welling.

He looked around. Not much he could use for a weapon, not even any books. There was a heavy crystal vase on a side table. He dumped the flowers out of it.

Ventner laughed, and there was a note of hysteria in his voice. "Your son will have to have a regent appointed to rule until he grows up."

"And you think that will be you?" Jared's tone said that wasn't going to happen.

"I can influence them." Ventner was sweating profusely, his hands starting to shake. His grip tightened on the rifle.

Jensen hefted the vase. He wondered how good his curve ball was these days. Guess he was going to find out.

"You don't want to kill me." There was a crack in Jared's calm.

Ventner snorted. "I've been trying to kill you for months."

"You're doing a poor job of it."

Jensen groaned. That was going to set the idiot off. He pushed open the door all the way and heaved the vase at Ventner's head.

His aim was good and he hit dead on. Ventner went down, but the rifle fired as he did, taking out a chunk of the wall. Thankfully, Jared dropped to the floor and the shot missed him. Jensen tackled Ventner, sitting on him, but he was out cold.

"Get me something to tie him up with," Jensen said, relief washing through him.

Jared handed him one of his ties. "Here. Good work, that."

"Thanks."

The door burst open. Welling and the guards rushed in, guns drawn.

"Show's over." Jensen stood. "Cuffs?"

Welling tossed him a set of handcuffs, and Jensen cuffed Ventner's hands behind his back. He also managed to resist the urge to kick the bastard.

"What happened, Your Majesty?" Welling asked, anger in his voice.

"Someone let him in without announcement or permission." Jared folded his arms over his chest and looked at the two guards.

The two guards looked at each other and then at Ventner. Both shook their heads in tandem. "He didn't come in through us."

"Is there another way in?" Jensen asked. Because those two weren't smart enough to lie that well.

"Yes. But there's no way that _he_ would have a key to the back door."

Jensen bent down and searched Ventner's pockets, coming up with a single key. He held it up. "This, perhaps?"

Jared nodded. "I'm not even sure where it was stored."

"I'll take that, if you don't mind." Welling held out his hand.

And Jensen put the key in it. "I suspect that if you run ballistics on the bullets, they'll match from yesterday."

"Yes, sir," Welling said, and nodded to the two guards. "Return to your posts."

"I want a full update on everything when you have it." Jensen could see the strain that everything was putting on Jared. "I'm going to take the king --"

"These are my rooms --"

"And we need to do some work in them, sir," Welling said, and nodded towards the hole in the wall. "There is at least one shot to dig out of there."

"Let me get you some clothes, and we'll go find one of the guest rooms." Jensen went into the walk-in closet and gathered up something for them both to wear. He'd get the rest later.

* * *

After they'd run the gantlet of Jared's mother and both boys, Jensen finally got Jared into one of the other guestrooms. Jared was still shaking from the shooting.

"So, tell me about the back door," Jensen said as he watched Jared strip off his robe and get into a huge bathtub filled with hot water.

"Do you remember I told you about the inappropriate lovers? Well, they generally don't go through the front door." He let out a sigh as he sank down into the hot water.

"I didn't even know there was a back door." And really, that might have saved them both a whole lot of trouble.

"Of course not. I don't believe in that," But he blushed as he said it. "Mostly."

Something Chris mentioned clicked and he smirked at Jared. "That rock star?"

Jared's brow creased. "How do you even know about that?"

"Chris told me."

"Fuck. What is it with you and him?"

"Nothing. I've told you that. It was just some gossip. What about the back door?"

Jared blew out a breath. "I do not want to talk about my ex-lovers. Unless you'd like to give a full accounting?"

"Not so much." Mostly because there wasn't much of an accounting to be had. It was kind of humiliating for a man his age.

"I thought not. How about you get in here with me, and we'll talk about something else?"

For about half a second, Jensen thought about saying no, but the look on Jared's face was too adorable to resist. He quickly tossed his clothes on the floor and climbed in front of Jared, settling against his chest.

Closing his eyes, and leaning his head back, Jensen ran both hands down Jared's thighs. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

He could feel the slight trembling in Jared's body. "Liar," he said softly.

Behind him, Jared stiffened and then he sighed. "Just let it go, okay."

Part of Jensen wanted to argue with him, make him talk about it, but it wasn't his place. So, he turned completely around, sloshing the water over the side, and leaned in to kiss Jared deeply. Jared's hands came up to frame his face and Jensen groaned softly, giving himself up to the kiss.

* * *

Late in the day, he got a call from Welling asking Jensen to meet him in the garden. Something about his tone made Jensen's gut clench and his hands start to sweat.

"Sir," Welling said, coming to attention in front of him.

"You know, at this point you could just call me Jensen." He was starting to get damned uncomfortable with all the deference. Especially coming from someone he'd be pleased to call a colleague, maybe even a friend.

"Thanks, Jensen. And call me Tom." He sighed. "Look, there's no easy way to do this, so here. Look at the pictures." He handed Jensen a digital camera with a telephoto lens attached.

It took him a second to bring up the photos and when he did all the air left his lungs. They were from yesterday, of him and Jared at the lake. Even from far away there was no mistaking who they were or what they were doing.

Jensen closed his eyes and breathed out, fighting to control the roaring in his ears. "Where did you get this?"

"In Ventner's car. He was parked outside the fencing that surrounds the lodge." Welling wasn't looking at him, and the color on his cheeks was high.

"Who else has seen these?" Because if -- no, when -- they got back to Texas, there would be no job to return to. He couldn't begin to imagine what his parents were going to say or do when they found out.

"One of the young guardsmen who was helping with the investigation. Jason Preston. He brought the camera to me, rather than his supervisor."

"Not standard protocol, I'm guessing."

"No. He could be dismissed for it."

"See that he isn't."

"I'll take care of it. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. And I appreciate that you brought me this. How much time do you think I have before they are released?"

"I don't think they are _all_ necessary for the investigation." Something in Welling's tone gave Jensen hope for a moment.

But this was evidence, and even if Welling were the type of cop to destroy it, he wasn't. "You can't just destroy --" "No, but not every single _one_ of them is required."

It clicked. Jensen breathed out. "You're right, of course. All you have to prove is that he was tracking us. Not what we were doing when he was."

"Exactly. The only other person to know about the pictures is Ventner, and he isn't likely to say."

Jensen met his eyes. "Thanks, Tom. That could save my job."

"And keep my king from an embarrassing scandal." Welling nodded, taking the camera back.

* * *

Despite watching Welling delete the most graphic and intimate of the photos, there were still enough of them there to condemn him -- especially if they read between the lines. It wasn't enough for him to lose his job over, but it could make things uncomfortable for him, if people decided they wanted to be jerks about it. And it _was_ Texas.

Standing in his rooms, he took a deep breath and dialed his parent's house.

"Hello," his mother answered.

"Hey momma. How are y'all doing?"

"Jensen? What's wrong?" Her worry carried through the phone lines.

He shouldn't have called. Except that he had no choice. It was going to come out. Maybe not as humiliatingly as it could have, but even the pictures that were left showed...they were close. "I need to tell you something."

She gasped. "Something so important that it can't wait three days for you to get home? Is Bobby okay?"

"Yeah. He's fine. There are going to be some pictures --"

"Oh good Lord, what have you done? A woman?" She sounded incredulous. "Did you get caught --"

Jensen closed his eyes. "Momma. Momma. It's not a woman."

There was dead silence on the other end.

And Jensen cleared his throat. "It's...it's the king and me. We were out riding yesterday."

"I saw something on CNN. Someone took another shot at the king. They didn't mention that you were there."

"I was. And there's more. The guy who did the shooting tried again. And we caught him, but he'd been tracking us yesterday and taking pictures."

"Please tell me you're not saying that you got caught _in flagrante delicto_ with the King of Montovia?"

He wouldn't have thought his mother would know that expression. Or would use it if she did. Jensen closed his eyes and tried to will his hands to stop shaking. "Um...yeah. That is kind of what I'm saying. The worst of the pictures --"

"Worst? Oh, Jensen, that is not the best way to advance your career. And it's a hell of a way to finally tell us you're gay."

"You knew?" Jensen choked. He groped backward for a chair, and sat down hard. "How did you know?

"Honey, you've never been that interested in girls. We were all so startled when you fell so hard for Gloria Jean. Your dad said that proved he was right. But when you never dated anyone after her, he finally admitted he was probably wrong."

"You both knew? How could you not have said anything to me?"

"It was your secret to tell or not. We figured you would tell us eventually. And when you never did, we just..." She paused, and he could almost see her shrug.

"You're okay with this?"

"Well, not that pictures of you and your...friend are going to be splashed all over the papers, but what you are? I'm not sure okay is the right word, but we know who you are, and this doesn't change anything about how we feel about you."

"I can't believe you're taking this so calmly. I mean --"

"I've had some time to think about it. Are you going to come home?"

"Why wouldn't I? Texas is my home. Everyone I know and love is there."

"Not everyone, I'm thinking."

It felt like a knife in the chest. "No. Not everyone. But I can't stay. It would be too hard to leave everyone. You don't want me to take Bobby so far away from you, do you?"

"You've got to make your own decisions, but we're retired now. We could come visit you."

He could not talk about that anymore. Not to his mom, not now. "Chris' getting us from the airport."

"Give us a call when you get in. We love you, son."

"I love you, Momma." He closed his phone and put his head in his hands. God, what was he going to do?

* * *

They returned to the city two days later. And then it was their last night in Montovia.

Jared hadn't asked him to stay, and even if he had, Jensen knew that he couldn't. Which he supposed was why Jared hadn't asked. The constant pressure in his chest bordered on pain, and he couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat.

"Jared?" he called as he came in.

"All packed?" Jared asked as he came out of the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

It hurt to nod.

Jared closed his eyes and when he opened them they were soft and liquid. "I can't do this. I can't pretend your leaving isn't killing me. I want you to stay. I've been waiting for you to say something, anything, and you haven't."

He had to forcibly take a breath before he could speak. "I can't --" Jensen closed his stinging eyes. "Don't do this. Please. I can't stay. You know I can't."

"I don't know anything of the sort. I've tried to put every opportunity in your path, but you have to want to stay." Jared's voice cracked.

"Everything I know, everyone I know, is in Texas. There is nothing here except you. And I've known you what, ten days?"

"You're scared."

"Of course I am. You want to change my entire life at the drop of a hat. I can't do that. I'm not made that way. I need --"

"The familiar? The routine? You could have that here, with me."

Jensen shook his head, pushing his shaking hands into his pockets. "My son needs a stable environment to grow up in. I can't move him around like that."

"Don't blame this on Bobby. He'd have the best education in the world right here. He'd go to school with Jordan. This isn't about that."

Maybe it wasn't. But Jensen could only address one issue at a time. And right now, with his chest aching like hell, he wasn't sure he could do even that. "What if something happened to me? He'd be alone, half a world away from everything he knows."

Jared's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. "No. He'd be with his family. Because that is what we'd be to each other. Jordan would be his brother and I would be his father. I shouldn't have to tell you that. I'm not offering you something sordid. I'm offering you everything that I am."

It couldn't be like that. Jensen bit into his bottom lip, closing his hands into fists. "What would I be? Your inappropriate lover? I can't --"

"You could be l'amoureux or we could wed." He made it sound so damned easy, as if they could actually have it all.

Jensen choked. "No way. There's no way to keep that out of the papers. It'd be world news. And it would play so well in Texas."

"You'd be here. What difference would it make?"

"My parents are there. My friends. They would be ridiculed, laughed at." If he could see it so clearly, why couldn't Jared?

"Bring them here."

"Oh, just like that," Jensen snorted.

Jared exhaled a shaky breath. "If you don't want to marry me, you can still stay and live independently. We wouldn't be able to see each other as much if you weren't living here, but --"

"I finished college at night. I'm a small-town cop. I'm not meant for this grand life." He waved his hand around, still trying to drag in enough air so that he didn't sound like he was dying. "I'm not meant to be the lover of a king."

Jared looked down, his mouth opened and then closed. When he looked up, his eyes were flat, dead looking. "I see. I would do anything in my power to make you comfortable, to make it easier for you to stay here, but there is nothing I can do about that. I am the King of Montovia. And even for you, I can't step aside."

"I wouldn't even think about asking it. I knew going in this wasn't going to work out with a fairly-tale ending." Jensen closed his eyes and tried to breathe past the lump that was cutting off the air in his throat. He looked up at Jared. "Should I go back to my rooms?"

"No," Jared said, his voice soft and hurt and wet. "Apparently, we only have one more night. I'd like to have it with you. Make enough memories to last us both for the rest of our lives."

When Jared opened his arms, Jensen walked into them, shaking, burying his face in the heat of Jared's neck, holding on with everything he had left.

Even when he slid into Jared's body and then allowed Jared into his own, the pressure in his chest never eased. His body was sated, but there was no satisfaction in it. He lay awake for a long time, listening to Jared's uneven breathing.

Finally, the light was coming through the break in the curtains, painting a stripe of daylight across the carpet.

Closing his eyes, Jensen wished he had the words to say good-bye, but there were none, only the ache in his chest that he feared he'd never lose. He leaned up, and pressed a kiss to Jared's lips, pretending that his cheeks weren't wet. Pretending that when the door closed behind him, he didn't hear the muffled sob. Pretending that he could go on.

* * *

He sat on the sofa, and buried his face in his hands. Tears slid through his fingers and dripped onto his knees. It didn't matter that he was doing the right thing.

By the time Bobby was up and dressed, he'd fought himself back under control. Ms. Allison led them to a car and said a polite, but restrained, good-bye.

First-class tickets meant they could wait and board last. Jensen stood by the window, looking out at the plane. His heart was pounding so hard he could hardly breathe.

He couldn't help feeling like he was giving up so much to return to a life where he wouldn't be able to be himself. Maybe he could live without it. He had for a long time. But now he'd had a taste of what it was supposed to be like. And somehow he didn't think he'd fit so well back in his dark closet.

To stay meant to give up everything else. -- and make Bobby do that as well. Even if Jared wasn't in Texas, the rest of his family and friends were. And they'd help him through this. At least until they saw the pictures, and then maybe they wouldn't be his friends. No. Chris knew. And so did his parents. So, it would be all right.

Except for the gaping hole inside him that was dripping blood on the floor.

Bobby finally took his hand. "Dad?"

"I'm making a mistake, aren't I?" He was appalled that his voice cracked.

Bobby snorted. "Well, you look like you're going to cry. That might be your first clue."

"I've already cried." Jensen wiped his cheek.

"Sir," the flight attendant said, quietly. "We need you and your son to get on board."

"I guess we have to go." He moved away from the window.

"Sure, Dad." Bobby let go of his hand.

* * *

The cab stopped at the guard post. "Jensen Ackles to see His Majesty," he said, holding his breath. Would they even let him in?

"Very good." The guard waved him through.

Ms. Allison was standing on the steps, waiting for him. Her eyes were wide, and she was smiling. "I'm surprised to see you back so soon."

Jensen couldn't talk to anyone until he talked to Jared. "Where is he?"

"The breakfast room. He's ordered that no one disturb him."

"Thanks. Can you get something for Bobby to eat?"

"Hey, I want to go with you."

"Not this time. I need to do this alone."

"I'll have the cook make you waffles," Ms. Allison said, taking Bobby's hand.

Bobby grinned. "With blueberries and whipped cream on them?"

Ms. Allison nodded and led him away.

Jensen's heart was pounding so hard and fast that he was shaking, and he had to wipe his hands on his pants before he pushed open the door to the breakfast room. Jared was sitting at the far end, at a small table by the window, holding a cup. Like a blow to the chest, Jensen couldn't miss the tear tracks on his face.

"Ms. Allison, I told you I didn't want to be disturbed. For any reason." Jared's voice was broken open. There was no hiding anything in it.

Jensen drew in a shaky breath. He had done that. Now he had to make amends. "She didn't think you'd mind."

The chair scraped across the wooden floor, and Jared knocked into the table as he stood, everything on it rattling. "Don't you have a plane to catch?"

"I missed it." Jensen tried to smile, but the look in Jared's eyes cut him like glass.

"Why?" The single word rang out like a shot.

And it hit Jensen in his chest. He moved across the room to where Jared was standing. There was none of the softness in Jared's eyes that Jensen had come to expect.

Taking a deep breath, and knowing he'd never get a second chance, Jensen slid to his knees. "I tried to catch it, but I couldn't. I couldn't leave." Jensen took a breath. "I couldn't leave you. Can you forgive me?"

Jared closed his eyes and when he opened them, there were no barriers, only wet pleading and a faint glimmer of hope. "You only get to do this once. I can't bear to spend another morning like this one. Don't leave me again."

"Okay. I won't. I didn't really leave this time." But at Jared's hurt look, Jensen looked down. He was shaking so hard he couldn't keep still. "I'm…I'm sorry. I still don't know how this can work. I just know that if I don't try, I'll regret it forever. I…I…love you."

A breath rushed out of Jared, and he smiled, finally. "I love you, too. Now, get up, will you?"

Jensen laughed and climbed to his feet. "That was damned uncomfortable."

"It's a wooden floor, what did you expect? Why?"

He shrugged. He didn't know why. It had felt like the right thing to do. "Practice."

The look on Jared's face said he didn't know if he should laugh or cry. "It won't be like that. You will walk at my side. Always."

Jared opened his arms, and Jensen went straight into them, feeling warm and safe. He tipped his head up, and Jared kissed him.

"I would have given you all the choices in the world if you'd stayed. Now you only get one." Jared ran his hand over Jensen's head, long fingers carding through his short hair.

Jensen was okay with that, as long as he got to stay. "Which one?"

"You're going to marry me."

He closed his eyes. Whatever it took. "I always wanted to make a stand for gay marriage."

"Good thing, because we're going to in a big way."

"I refuse to be queen."

Jared laughed. "No worry there. With you being a commoner, the best you can do is prince consort."

"Works for me." Chris would tease him about it forever, but it would be worth it.

Jared put his hand on Jensen's cheek and kissed him deeply.

The knot in Jensen's chest finally eased completely. He was home.

\--finis


End file.
